Rosewood
by gleefulmusings
Summary: After losing their parents, most of their friends, and Sam and Rachel, Kurt and Finn move to Rosewood to finish their senior year and be close to Kurt's distant cousin. As they become friends with the Pretty Little Liars, they inadvertently garner the attention of A, but to what end? After all, Kurt and his friends have no secrets. Do they?
1. A is for Anew

**Author's Note**: Yep, another new story. Before the eventual comments and private messages, let me just say this: I write what I want, when I want. Writing many things is what helps motivate me. If that bothers you, _please_ stop reading my work. Regardless, please stop sending me messages telling me that I _must_ continue this or that story first, that I _must _write on a schedule not my own, that I _must _not have so many works-in-progress. What I write and when is my sole discretion. _None_ of my stories are abandoned. I work on them continuously. I will not post filler just so that I can post _something._ /rant

Moving on, this story is a crossover between _Glee_ and _Pretty Little Liars_ (which is one of the most awesomely ridiculous shows ever created). In terms of chronology, let's say this story is set during the summer prior to Kurt's senior year. A lot of _Glee_ canon has been retconned, which is fine because canon pretty much sucks. As far as _Pretty Little Liars_ is concerned, the timing is vague because the entire show is vague. Five seasons in and maybe eighteen months have passed. Let's put this at post-Season Three just to provide some general guidelines. I will be using some PLL canon, but altering or omitting events to suit my evil whims.

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><p><span><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Santana Lopez here. Just letting you whores know that Aidan doesn't own me. If he did, Kurt and I would be the overlords of the earth, just like god - whose real name is Cordelia Chase - intended. I prefer appearing in Aidan's fics because he recognizes that I am truly one of the most amazing bitches ever created and deserve a lot of face time. Also, Kurt Hummel's ass is really fucking spectacular and should have spawned at least 100 Tumblr accounts by now.

So sit back, relax, and read about our new adventures in Rosewood. If that little bitch troll from hell Alison thinks she's bad, Junior Miss better get ready to have several seats at the back of the bus. And as for Vanderjesus, that heifer is soon going to accept me as her new lord and personal savior. As well as learn how to apply lipstick with some discretion, because _seriously_.

*drops mic*

My delicious ass was not harmed during the production of this fanfic. Well, not yet. Oh, hi, boys! - Kurt Hummel

* * *

><p>Ezra threw a fond look at Aria, took one hand from the wheel and took one of hers in it. "Thanks again for coming with me."<p>

She rolled her eyes playfully. "And miss the chance to be introduced to the one member of your family who actually _wants_ to meet me?

His other hand gripped the steering wheel tightly. "I am so sorry about my mother."

She made a dismissive noise. "Ezra, no matter what your mother thinks, I'm not going anywhere, so she can just deal with it. She might be used to throwing money at whatever she doesn't like to make it go away, but there's not enough money in the world for me to leave you."

He blinked heavily and shot her a watery smile, determined not to make this scene maudlin. He still was very hurt that his mother thought appearances were more important than his happiness. That she couldn't see, that she couldn't even be bothered to _look_ that Aria was in no way a gold-digger was incredibly disappointing.

He loved his mother, he did, but there were instances in which he really didn't like her. Her treatment of Aria was one of those instances. Still, every time he thought of Aria putting his mother in her place made him almost giddy.

"You're something very special, Aria Montgomery."

She smirked. "Don't forget it, buddy." She turned and looked out the windshield. "I don't think you've ever mentioned this cousin before."

He blew out a breath. "We're not too close," he admitted, "not since we were kids, really. We're not even closely related. I think we're something like sixth cousins. According to the family records, there were two brothers in France who argued over a woman and went their separate ways. My ancestor went to Ireland, while his stayed in France. We've stayed in contact but only actually met a handful of times; still, he's a hell of a kid. I think you'll really like him."

She eyed him. "You're holding back. What's up?"

He bit his lip.

"Ezra?" she prompted, narrowing her eyes. "Why did he move to Rosewood?"

"His father recently passed away," he said after several moments of silence. "His mom died when he was a little kid, so now it's just him."

She gasped. "That's horrible!"

He nodded. "It is. He's only seventeen and now he's an orphan."

She blinked. "Seventeen?"

Another nod. "He's your age. In fact, he's going to be in your class. I was hoping you could, I don't know, take him under your wing or something. He's having a hard enough time now and it will only be worse when he starts school next week and knows no one."

"Of course!" she exclaimed. She grabbed her phone and sent off a quick text.

"What are you doing?"

"I sent a text to the other girls with the address. They'll come. Don't worry, Ezra. We'll keep an eye out for him."

He fidgeted. "I wish you hadn't done that," he said softly. "There's more you don't know."

"Like what?" she asked, slightly suspicious.

He swallowed heavily.

"His name."

She frowned.

* * *

><p>A dumbstruck Aria tumbled out of his car five minutes later. Spencer and Emily were already there, considering how close their houses were, and Hanna was pulling up to the curb.<p>

"What's with the SOS?" Spencer immediately demanded, sending Ezra a wary glance. "Is it ... "

Aria made a strangled noise.

By this time, Hanna had joined them with her brows raised and an expectant look on her face.

Ezra sighed. "My cousin just moved to Rosewood," he said, waving toward the house they now stood before. "He was orphaned this summer and is going to start at the school next week. I asked Aria to meet him so that he would know someone at school and she called you, hoping you might give him support."

"Of course we will!" Hanna shrieked, face softening. "Poor dude."

"Why does Aria look like something the cat threw up?" Spencer barked.

Emily placed a restraining hand on her elbow. She didn't share her friend's suspicions of Ezra.

He sighed again. "Because I just told her his name."

"Which is?" Emily asked cautiously.

"Kurt Hummel," Aria croaked. "His cousin is Kurt Hummel."

The other girls balked and, as one, looked up at the enormous house.

"Well, that explains the money," Hanna said. The old MacCallister mansion was worth beaucoup bucks. Easily one of the most impressive houses in Rosewood, it had been on the market for the past five years because no one was willing to shell out that much dough for a pile of rocks in a dinky Philadelphia superb, despite the fact that its maintenance had been museum-quality.

"Oh, _nice_, Hanna," Emily spat, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

Hanna blushed. "Sorry," she muttered.

Spencer stared at Ezra. "You're telling us that your cousin who just moved here is the son of the _Vice President of the United States?_"

He nodded.

Hanna, who made it her business to know about cute young famous people, began reciting everything she knew. "His father was killed in a place crash two months ago outside of Cleveland, along with his wife, Carole. There were several other deaths, right?"

Ezra nodded again. "Burt and Carole were killed along with several of Kurt's friends. He was a member of his first high school's glee club, which had just put on a concert to celebrate the President's first year in office. After moving to Washington, Kurt and his stepbrother Finn attended Woodville Academy."

Spencer stared.

"Kurt had asked his former glee club to come to DC for the celebration," he continued. "They performed - very well, I might add - and departed via Dulles International."

His eyes darkened. "The plane exploded outside of Cleveland. Kurt and Finn had taken another plane, as each had a final that day and had to leave later. Four of their friends had waited behind to do some last-minute sightseeing and left with them."

He sighed. "Everyone else, including Kurt's father, stepmother, his two best friends, and his boyfriend were on the first plane. So was Finn's girlfriend. They perished."

Emily and Aria's eyes filled with tears.

"I don't remember reading anything about a boyfriend," Hanna said quietly, hating the thought of young love thwarted. When Caleb had been shot, she had been so terrified that he might ...

"Sam Evans," Emily whispered. She considered Kurt Hummel to be one of her role models. He was her age, extremely bright and articulate, and openly gay and proud of it. She blushed as she thought of the fan letter she had once written him. She had never done anything so ridiculous in her life, but the day she received an actual response was a high she had ridden for weeks.

"They were very much in love," Ezra said, "even after their separation because of the move. Kurt had said that he planned on marrying Sam and I believe he was serious. If you had ever seen them together ... " he trailed off, shaking his head.

"That is so sad," said a teary Hanna.

"Is he living here by himself?" asked a concerned Spencer.

"No," he said. "Kurt lost his dad, but he still has family, no matter how distant we are, but Finn has no one else. His parents were both only children, both sets of grandparents are dead, and his father was killed in the first war in Iraq, not long after Finn was born."

He hesitated. "Kurt and Finn are ... extremely protective of each other."

Aria nodded. "I guess they would be," she whispered. "They lost their parents and their significant others."

"Kurt had himself legally emancipated. He has the money and the intelligence to take care of himself, so it wasn't contested by the state. He then in turn assumed legal custody of Finn, at least until Finn's birthday, which I believe is in a couple of months."

Spencer blew out a breath. "That's a lot to take on."

"Kurt can handle it," Ezra said with confidence. "He's always been an adult in a kid's body." He smiled wanly. "I think you and he will really get along well, Spencer."

She shot him a shy smile.

Hanna snorted. "Yeah, right. They're already like twins. I've read all about him. He's a member of MENSA, speaks a stupid number of languages, has a perfect GPA, and reads Russian literature for _fun_. I can see it now: it will be like he and Spencer are twins joined at their boring personalities."

Spencer gave her a sweet smile. "Don't worry, Hanna. I'm sure that once you learn to read, you'll come to enjoy Tolstoy as much as I do."

Hanna growled and punched Spencer's arm as the others laughed.

"What about their friends?" Aria asked. "The ones who were on their plane?"

Ezra nodded. "They live here, as well. Their parents were also on board the first plane, so they lost their families, too. They had already turned eighteen, though, so they simply quit McKinley and moved here to be with Kurt and Finn."

His brow furrowed. "Let's see, there's Mike Chang, Quinn Fabray, Noah Puckerman, and Santana Lopez." He blinked. "I'm not sure exactly what we'll be walking into. Mike lost his girlfriend and his parents. Quinn used to date Finn but, while she was with him, she slept with Puck, his best friend, and got pregnant; they gave up the baby. She lost her mother in the crash and hasn't spoken with her father for some time. Santana lost her girlfriend Brittany, as well as her parents."

"Whoa," Hanna breathed. "And we thought we had drama."

Aria and Emily rolled their eyes.

"I can see why they required such a large house," Spencer said diplomatically.

"They needed the grounds, as well," Ezra said. "Kurt, Santana, and Quinn are all cheerleaders, so they need the space to practice their gymnastics. Finn, Mike, and Puck played football on McKinley and will probably try out for the team here. Mike and Kurt play soccer - Mike more aggressively than Kurt - and are also swimmers."

He turned and smiled. "They're nowhere in your league, Emily, but they do have an Olympic pool. If you ever needed to practice and didn't want to go to the school, I'm sure they'd welcome you."

Her eyes lit up. She'd had no idea Kurt was a swimmer.

"I think we've been spotted," Spencer said quietly. "We should probably go up."

Ezra nodded and led the charge. The moment he stepped foot on the porch, the door flew open and he found himself with an armful of teenage cousin.

"Hello," Kurt whispered.

Ezra held him tightly and kissed the top of his head. "Hey, little man."

"I'm not little anymore, plebeian, or have you not noticed we're almost the same height now?"

"You'll always be a baby to me," Ezra volleyed, smirking.

Kurt pushed him away. "Yes, because you're old."

That drew great honking laughter from Hanna, toward whom Kurt turned.

His eyes widened appreciatively. "I don't know who you are, but you are stupidly beautiful with an unerring sense of fashion."

Her eyes sparkled as she threw him a dazzling grin. "And you're all I've ever wanted in a man."

"I'm gay."

"What's your point?"

"Where have you been all my life?" he demanded.

"At the mall," she shot back.

"I think I love you."

"Ditto."

"Don't go all Swayze on me."

"Demi Moore?"

"Her plastic surgeon deserves a Nobel Prize."

"Ashton Kutcher."

"Reeks of Massengil and poor decisions."

"This is the beginning of a beautiful relationship," said a decided Kurt, holding out his hand.

"Hanna Marin," she replied, taking it in her own. She and Kurt continued to smile at each other like idiots until Spencer forcefully cleared her throat. "Oh, yeah," she said. "Here are some other people," she said dismissively, laughing when Emily elbowed her.

"Spencer Hastings," the girl said, holding out a hand.

Kurt took it. "Are you related to Peter Hastings?"

"He's my father," she said cautiously. "How do you know him?"

Kurt shrugged a shoulder. "He's my new lawyer." One look at Spencer and he could see how uptight she was, so he decided to have some fun. He pulled her toward him. "Your father is extremely hot."

"No, he's not!" she fiercely denied, on the verge of hyperventilating.

He chuckled. "I know he's happily married to your beautiful mother, whom I've also had the pleasure of meeting. I was just being obnoxious. It's a little thing I do." He frowned. "He _is_ hot, though."

Spencer shuddered. "Ew," she said sourly before she too started laughing. "It's nice to meet you."

"You, as well," Kurt said happily.

"I'm Emily Fields," came the shy interruption.

Kurt turned to take her hand but then paused. "Emily Fields," he slowly repeated before his face softened. "Thank you for your letter."

"Letter?" asked a confused Hanna.

She balked. "That was a year ago!" She blinked owlishly. "How did you even remember that?"

He gave her a sardonic smile. "Given the letters I normally receive, I tend to remember the nice ones."

Her eyes dimmed, understanding his inference. The others did as well, and thus weren't surprised when Ezra growled.

"I'm Aria!" the last girl chirped, holding out a hand and hoping to hold off one of Ezra's dark moods. "Aria Montgomery."

Kurt was charmed by her doe eyes and eccentric wardrobe. He shook her hand and smiled before he tilted his head and looked at cousin before looking back at Aria. He quirked a brow. "Really, Ezra? You're dating one of your students?"

Aria gasped and quickly dropped his hand.

"H-How did you know?" Ezra whispered.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "One, because even though these girls are gorgeous, they're also obviously _my age_ and I doubt you'd bring random students to my house. Two, Aria is exactly your type. Three, I know you."

Ezra blushed.

"What do you mean _type_?" asked a curious Aria.

"Let me guess," Kurt began. "You're highly intelligent with a particularly passionate penchant for literature and film. You plan on becoming a novelist. You have a unique sense of style and don't care what others think about it or you." He paused. "You're fiercely independent, proud of it, dislike conflict, and are extremely loyal, even when perhaps you know better." The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. "How'd I do?"

Aria blinked. "Am I that obvious?"

"No, but Ezra is."

Ezra pursed his lips as Kurt and the girls laughed.

"We're still organizing, but please come in," Kurt said, ushering them into the house. "I'm sure the others would enjoy meeting you."

* * *

><p>Hanna was more than content simply to wander around the first floor of the house, taking in all of its grandeur. It all but screamed money and class and, though it wasn't her particular style, she could nevertheless enjoy it, despite its oddness.<p>

There wasn't a consistent theme, which she found jarring. Instead, each room had been decorated according to its specific purpose. The kitchen was massive and awash in stainless steel and butcher block. The floor was terra-cotta with built-in warming coils. The backsplash was simple utilitarian white tile. In terms of the gadgetry, it looked as though Williams-Sonoma had vomited over every available surface.

There was the standard Kitchen-Aid professional stand mixer with all the attachments, an eight-burner gas range with a convention and convection oven beneath, as well as a double oven built into the wall. The refrigerator was a massive SubZero with glass doors. In the counter next to it was built a wine refrigerator. There was a top-of-the-line dishwasher, next to which stood a trash compactor.

The cabinets were mahogany and had no doors. Stacked inside were various collections of crockery and stemware. There were complete sets for sixteen of Fiestaware, jadeware, Lenox bone china, and Florentine Turquoise Wedgewood dinnerware. There were two sets of flatware: an everyday Oneida basic pattern, and a more formal Sir Christopher by Wallace. There was every variety of crystal stemware, as well as a colorful and haphazard collection of ceramic mugs.

There was a toaster oven, a waffle iron, an ice cream maker, a bread maker, and a host of other helpful implements, each situated in their own place on top of the endless counter space.

The island was enormous, also covered in butcher block, and contained an another range of four burners along with a griddle and grill plate. There was an additional sink which was presumably used to wash fruits and vegetables. The body of the island was inset with even more storage shelves, as well as places for cookbooks and recipe files. Over the island was a rack from which hung every imaginable size of copper pots and pans.

On one side of the island sat three stools so that snack and short meals could be had. In the middle of the counter sat an enormous but relatively plain bowl the color of eggshells, inside of which sat a pyramid of gorgeous Granny Smith apples which almost looked polished to perfection.

At the end of the room was a fireplace large enough for the girls to stand inside without bending over, as well as a breakfast nook with built-in benches and custom cushions situated beneath a huge bay window.

"The kitchen was admittedly a selling point for me," Kurt said. "I love to cook."

"Me too!" Aria squealed, looking around the space in utter bliss.

Hanna rolled her eyes and stomped off toward the nearest adjoining room, which was for formal dining. She halted in her tracks and hungry eyes devoured every mesmerizing detail.

"_This_ is a room," she whispered with reverence.

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Not too much?"

She shook her head. "There's no such thing. This is _gorgeous._"

The walls were painted a shocking crimson, one that normally would have been considered far too bold, but the size of the room lent itself well to the color. In the middle sat a huge Chippendale dining table, the top of which was decorated with a fabulous arrangement of burl mahogany wood grains. It had four base pedals, was eighteen feet long and large enough to seat twenty comfortably, though she noted two six-foot removable panels. The entire table was framed by two inches of straight grain mahogany. A massive matching sideboard, more the size of a credenza, took up almost an entire wall.

The chairs were both delicate and sturdy with partially open backs. The seat upholstery was champagne damask with crimson fleur-de-lis, the exact shade of the walls, embroidered upon them. The drapes hanging from the picture windows were of champagne-colored raw silk. The floors were heart of pine, a few shades lighter than the wood of the table, but somehow perfectly went with the room.

Hanna reluctantly followed Kurt as he continued the tour. They crossed through the foyer again and entered the library. One side of the massive room was comprised of floor-to-ceiling windows made of leaded glass. The other three sides were nothing but built-in mahogany shelves, several of which were already crammed to capacity. It appeared as though one of the group's first efforts had been to unpack the books.

Aria was very close to climaxing. Ezra looked ready to jizz his pants. It was all Spencer could do not to genuflect in worship.

"Nerds," Hanna muttered.

Emily gave her a fond, understanding smile.

"So you've discovered my big secret," Kurt confided to Hanna. "I'm a geek of the highest order. Hermione Granger was actually inspired by me."

She blinked. "Really?"

He merely gave her a close-lipped smile.

She scoffed.

"So are you a Ron/Hermione stan?" Spencer casually asked.

He gagged. "Hell no. Hermione deserved so much better. If Harry wasn't going to end up with Luna, he should have been with Hermione, as JK Rowling has finally come around to understanding. _Do not _get me started on Ginny Weasley." He grinned. "But you may give me Oliver Wood and his broomstick on a silver platter, please and thank you."

The girls laughed with appreciation.

In one corner sat an oak rolltop secretary with a ridiculous number of cubbyholes, all of which were currently empty. In the middle of the room stood five pairs of partner desks; atop of each sat a banker's lamp, a dark brown leather blotter, a pencil holder, and an in-and-out box with two compartments. At either end of the row of desks sat two large laser printers.

Spencer grabbed his arm. "We can do our homework here, right?" she whispered with reverence, overeager eyes brimming with excitement.

"Of course."

"I call you as my new study buddy!" She turned to her friends. "It's over. I have a new partner in intellectual intercourse."

They rolled their eyes. Kurt gave a bashful smile and blushed.

Ezra turned wistful. "This room makes me want to go back to school." He blinked. "I can grade papers here, right?"

Kurt smiled. "You're always welcome, Ezra."

The other man beamed.

Aria closed her eyes and hummed happily, the smell of books, leather, and acid-free paper assaulting her senses in a most pleasing manner. She wanted to move into this room and never leave it.

Kurt turned and gestured for them to follow. Aria, Ezra, and Spencer protested vociferously. Hanna and Emily pushed them out of the room. Kurt entered the room immediately adjacent, which he called the conservatory.

"I thought that was for plants and stuff," said a dubious Hanna, looking around with a skeptical eye.

"It's also appropriate for a music room," Kurt said, waving a hand about.

There was a grand piano in the center of the room, to the left of which sat an impressive set of drums. There was an upright piano in the north corner. Several stands housing an assortment of string instruments lined the other walls.

"The pianos are mine," Kurt explained, "and the drums belong to my brother, Finn. Some of the guitars are Puck's and the rest ... belonged to Sam and Artie." He blinked owlishly and averted his eyes. "Santana plays the violin, viola, and the cello, though with various aptitudes. Her parents were very traditional and insisted she learn an instrument. She likes to play but refuses to do so in front of others, even me. Until last year, I didn't even know she played."

He forced a smile. "Do any of you play?"

"Aria does!" Emily insisted, rolling her eyes when Aria blushed. "She plays piano and guitar. She sings, too. She's very good. So is Hanna."

"Aria is so much better that it's ridiculous," Hanna scoffed. "I'll sing in chorus, but not on my own."

Kurt gave a hopeful look at Aria. "Maybe we could sing sometime?"

"I'd like that," she said bashfully. "You were in your glee club, right?"

"Kurt is professionally trained and has a four-octave range," Ezra boasted.

The girls stared at the boy in question.

"Three," Kurt corrected.

Ezra rolled his eyes. "So you're Whitney instead of Mariah. Songbird, _please_."

Kurt's entire face flushed. "You haven't called me that in years."

"Doesn't mean it's not still true," Ezra said, shrugging. He looked at the girls. "Kurt learned to sing before speaking. He started the piano when he was two. He has perfect pitch and one of the most beautiful voices I've ever had the privilege to hear."

Kurt blushed harder as Aria studied him with greed. She loved singing, it was one of her greatest pleasures, but she had no one with whom to share her passion. Her parents enjoyed music but didn't sing or play. Mike had played the clarinet in elementary school when being in band was cool, but quickly abandoned it in favor of becoming a jock. Spencer and her sister Melissa played the piano, but more for padding their resumes than actual artistry.

Alison had played the piano, too; quite well, actually.

Aria thought she would greatly enjoy having someone to play with on a regular basis. She also wondered what Kurt's voice sounded like and how they would sound together.

"Do you write, as well?" she asked him.

He ducked his head. "Sometimes," he said quietly.

She nodded kindly and let it go. She knew how personal songwriting could be.

He quickly led them throughout the rest of the first floor, including the study, which Kurt planned to use primarily for accounting and, he confided, escaping his housemates; the billiards room, which also contained a wealth of board games; and a double parlor with gorgeous river stone fireplaces at either end.

He explained that on the second floor, up the grand staircase via the foyer, was a media room and a grand ballroom. The media room was already put together, but he had no idea what to do with the ballroom; it was too large and exquisite to leave empty, but it wasn't as though there was much of an occasion to throw balls.

Hanna loudly disagreed with his statement, already planning several parties. Kurt appeared interested, which she took as a good sign.

"The third floor houses the bedrooms and the laundry room. The fourth floor is unfinished attic space, though it runs the entire length of the house. The cellar is mostly unfinished beyond the steps, but there is a large dedicated space for wine."

"This place is amazing!" Hanna bellowed, spinning around in a circle and greatly enjoying the blaring echo that screamed back at her.

"Calm down, Cinderella," Spencer snarked. "This isn't your palace."

Hanna scowled but held her tongue.

Kurt led them back into the kitchen and through the French windows out onto the teak deck that overlooked the back of the estate, which ended in dense woods fronted by a copse of ancient pine trees. Just beneath them was an English garden heavy on lavender and other herbs, dotted with paths that led to the other parts of the grounds.

The pool had Emily practically drooling while Spencer's eyes landed immediately on the tennis courts, which surpassed the ones at the club. There was a large patch of recently tilled soil which appeared to be waiting to be put to use.

"A vegetable garden," Kurt explained, turning wistful. "Carole had one at her house before she and Dad married. Finn wants to plant one in her honor." He shook his head in amusement. "I think it's a lovely idea, but I get the feeling that I'll eventually be the one to care for it."

"What's the building toward the back?" Hanna asked.

"The carriage house. There were once stables on the property, but they were demolished at the turn of the century." He shrugged. "It would have been interesting, I suppose, but I've never been much one for riding."

"You should try it," Spencer said. "If you learn properly, there's no other feeling like it in the world."

He smiled. "I take it you ride."

"Of course she does," Hanna scoffed. "There's no WASP activity Spencer hasn't mastered."

Spencer blushed but said nothing.

Emily decided to do it for her. "Watch your mouth," she said sharply. "I don't know what's going on with you two, but trust me when I tell you that Team Emaria is not amused."

Aria blinked before smiling slowly and at last nodding.

Hanna pouted. "There's no Team Emaria. It's always been Team Sparia and Team Hannily."

Kurt laughed. "I thought my friends were the only ones who used portmanteaus."

"Like what?" Hanna chirped, desperate to shift topics of conversation.

He shrugged. "Sam and I were Hevans," he whispered before shaking himself and forcing a smile. "Finn and I are Team Kinn, Puck and I are Pummel, and Santana and I are Kurtana."

"Team Kurtana for the motherfucking win!" someone crowed.

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned around, waving her over. "Everyone, this is my best friend, Santana Lopez. Bellatrix, this is my cousin Ezra and his friends."

Santana eyed Ezra up and down like a side of beef. "Tasty," she remarked. "Tink, the cute runs strong in your family."

"I know."

She smirked. "Nice to meet you," she said swiftly, nodding to the others.

The girls introduced themselves as Ezra blushed.

"This town has a seriously high quotient of hot babes," Santana noted, taking an extra long look at Hanna.

Emily startled, just now remembering Ezra mentioning Santana had lost her girlfriend. "Are you ... ?"

"I'm a lesbian," Santana said. She leaned in and winked. "A big one."

Emily blushed and dropped her eyes.

"It took me a while to come to grips with it," she admitted. She shook her head angrily. "Too damn long. I wasted so much time."

Kurt wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Brittany knew how much you loved her," he said softly.

She gave a gusty sigh but said nothing.

Before she could think better of it, Emily grabbed one of Santana's hands. "My girlfriend was murdered last year," she said quietly. "Her name was Maya."

Santana's eyes filled with understanding as she held tightly to Emily's hand.

"You have other friends living here with you, right?" asked a determinedly cheerful Hanna.

Kurt nodded. "Noah, Quinn, and Mike. He's either in his room or at the pool. Noah is somewhere on the grounds, probably starting a fire." His eyes widened and he looked to Santana. "Where's Quinn?" he demanded, a note of fear creeping into his voice.

Santana took his face in her hands. "Hey, everything's all right. We're all fine. Quinn just went to pick up some things at the grocery. She'll be back soon."

He blew out a shaky breath and wiped his eyes before turning toward the others. "Sorry," he said shyly. "Ever since the plane crash, I've become a little obsessed with knowing where everyone is at all times."

The girls understood that all too well.

"I don't think that's obsessive," Aria said kindly. "I think it's smart."

Santana gave a brusque nod. "Thanks for telling him that. He won't believe me." She looked at Kurt. "There's nothing wrong with keeping track of each other." She raised a brow. "Do you think I let her leave without telling me exactly where she was going and when she'd back? I even made her give me the address of the store?"

Kurt flushed and dropped his eyes.

"Are you all staying for dinner?" Santana asked the others. "We're just ordering pizzas, but you're welcome to join us."

The girls looked at each other.

"Sure," Spencer said. "We just have to call our parents and let them know."

"Invite them, if you'd like," Kurt said. "It might be easier for them simply to meet me and see the house rather than making any assumptions about some unsupervised fairytale teenage wonderland."

Spencer nodded. Her father never missed a chance to network, especially with a client as important as Kurt Hummel. He would at least put in an appearance, choke down a slice of pizza, and try to refer Kurt to his personal broker. Her mother would also probably pop over because she would automatically approve of her daughter forming any kind of relationship with someone of such high repute. She texted them. She hoped Melissa wouldn't crash.

Aria was thinking similar thoughts as she texted her mother, rather hoping that her father and brother would stay at home. Mike wasn't really interested in anything that wasn't about him and their father was still convinced Ezra moonlighted as Satan.

Emily shot off a quick text to her mother, but doubted she would actually come. In fact, she hoped she wouldn't. Her mom was very politically conservative and had often made some untoward remarks about Kurt's late father. Nonetheless, she had been devastated when the man died. If nothing else, his sincere love for his family and country had moved her.

"Can I invite my boyfriend?" Hanna asked.

"That depends," Kurt said with furrowed brow. "On a scale of one to ten, how hot is this boyfriend?"

"Twenty-three."

"Call him."

Santana rolled her eyes. "And yet another has been added to his Fruit Fly Harem."

"Fruit Fly?" Spencer asked, sending off a text to Toby. She figured if Hanna could invite her man, she could invite hers. She would make sure to split the bill with Kurt, though. She didn't expect him to pay for everything.

"He likes that term better than fag hags."

Kurt scowled. "No matter how you cut it, that phrase is offensive and belittling to all involved. I will not have my friends referred to as such."

"Oh, so they're your friends now?" Santana asked.

"Are you kidding me? _Look_ at them! I have to be surrounded by stunningly gorgeous women at all times or they might revoke my Gay Card." He shrugged. "Besides, Hanna's outfit."

Santana critically examined said outfit and nodded. "You _have_ been sartorially deprived. Okay, my objection is overruled."

"So we're gorgeous," Hanna purred.

He gave her a severely unimpressed look, which elicited a giggle from her. He narrowed his eyes. "Well, Aria is."

Hanna, Emily, and Spencer squawked with anger.

He shrugged. "She's practically family."

Ezra and Aria squawked.

"_Please_," Kurt huffed, rolling his eyes. "I can already picture your overly pink and saccharine wedding. You two ride the short bus to Adorable Overload. Between Aria's Bambi eyes and Ezra's boyish Prince Charming grin, it's like being trapped in the Disney World love tunnel and everyone is singing _A Whole New World_."

Spencer snapped her fingers. "That's it!" she roared, turning to the aforementioned couple. "That's _exactly_ what you remind me of! You two are _sickening_."

Emily scoffed. "Seriously? Look, Toby is one of my best friends, but you're out of your tree if you believe you're any different from _Ezria_ over there. Spence, you just received a collect call from Pot to Kettle. The message reads: you're black."

Hanna whinnied with hysterical laughter before just as abruptly sobering. "Are Caleb and I like that?" she shrieked.

"Actually, no," Aria said slowly. "The two of you are sweet but don't cause diabetes."

Hanna breathed out a sigh of relief. She was just about to ask whether Kurt and Santana had been sickly sweet in their relationships and swallowed a sigh of relief when Emily placed a restraining hand on her arm and stopped her.

"Hey!"

They turned to the source of the voice, which was Mike climbing the deck stairs dripping wet and clothed only in a tiny Speedo.

"Well, _hello_," Hanna purred, eyes gleaming.

Mike blinked and immediately crossed over to Kurt, standing behind him. "New friends?" he asked quietly.

Kurt nodded and introduced him to the others.

Mike grinned. "Nice to meet you all! I'm Mike Chang." He paused. "Um, I think I'm going to go put on some clothes."

"Don't bother on our account," Hanna said, grinning devilishly.

Kurt rolled his eyes and wagged a finger at her, which she pretended to bite. He turned around and suddenly realized just how closely Mike was standing to him. "O-Oh," he stuttered. "Hello." he cleared his throat. "We're going to order dinner soon and Ezra and the girls are going to join us." He paused. "Is that okay?"

Mike smiled, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Sure."

"Any requests?"

Mike wrinkled his nose in thought. "I'm really tired of pizza and feel like embracing some clichés." His eyes brightened. "Chinese?"

Kurt laughed, slipped his hand in Mike's and nodded before walking him inside.

An awkward silence descended in the wake of their departure.

"They've become really close," Santana said softly. "After Kurt lost Sam and Mike lost Tina, they just kind of fell in together." She shrugged. "It's not the swimming. Kurt didn't join a team until he started at Woodville. Maybe the soccer? They haven't played for years but have recently took it up again."

Aria opened her mouth and just as quickly shut it.

"You can ask," said an unruffled Santana. She could already see the signs that Aria was coming to care for Kurt separate of his relation to Ezra. Outside of Brittany, she had never before met someone who inspired such instant devotion.

"He's not gay, right? He lost his girlfriend. So is he bi?"

Santana gave a diffident shrug. "Mike would be the last person to put a label on it. He's always been a loner. His best friend, Matt, moved away in our sophomore year and Mike never truly recovered. Outside of Matt, he really only ever talked to Tina, so this is all very new."

She blew out a breath. "Mike is a really good guy, which is something I don't say often because I hate everyone. Yeah, I'm worried they're both vulnerable and might find themselves in a situation neither is ready for, but what can you do? The rest of us are keeping an eye on it. Quinn will say something to Kurt if there's reason to worry."

"What's she like?" Emily asked.

Santana pursed her lips. "I'm not the person to ask. I've known her since we were in kindergarten but we've never been friends. More like occasional allies. She was the blond princess who ruled over our class with an iron fist and terrified everyone who laid eyes on her without ever even raising her voice. She can be utterly ruthless and extremely cruel with an angelic smile on her face the entire time. She is the evil you will never see coming."

The other girls exchanged a worried glance, thinking of Alison.

"I mean, I'm a complete bitch, so you can't go by me because she and I have had our issues." She paused. "What I will say is that Quinn adores Kurt. I really do believe she has the capacity to kill anyone who would hurt him." She cocked her head. "Still, she's also logical and rational and is one of the most caring and tactful people I know when she can be bothered. She's a good friend to have, but an even worse enemy."

Ezra's eyes clouded. "How is Kurt doing? Really?"

Santana's own eyes dimmed. "It's hard. _Very _hard. He and Sam loved each other so much. Even the distance that was put between them didn't damper their connection." She bit her lip. "They were kind of an inspiration to the rest of us."

She swallowed and looked away. "They found an engagement ring with his body. He told me he was planning to ask Kurt once we got back to Lima. We all expected it sooner or later. Kurt was already planning it. I have no doubt they would have made it.

"They were just one of those couples, you know? Grand destiny and everything. They never fought, never exchanged a cross word. Even their differences, and they were legion and major, brought them closer to one another. Just watching them together made you want to be a better person so that, hopefully, you might one day find what they had, that some of their light might shine upon you. They were it for each other."

Aria and Hanna had tears rolling down their faces.

Santana sighed. "Watching him these past few months ... " She sighed and shook her head. "There are nights he wakes up screaming. I prefer those nights because at least he forces himself to wake from his nightmares."

She gave Ezra a hard look. "He spends way too much time taking care of the rest of us, Finn and Mike and me. We appreciate it. We need it, we need him. We love him. But it's not fair. We know that and so does he, but he doesn't care. Worrying about us allows him to put his grief on the backburner, even if only temporarily, but that's not to going to work forever. Eventually he's going to have to feel the loss and it's going to be so much worse after being so prolonged."

She pinned him with her gaze. "When that happens, I hope he can count on you."

"He can. Always."

She nodded. "Good. You know, he could have gone anywhere, but he wanted to be here, near you. He doesn't want you to know that. He doesn't want to place the onus of his pain on you, but we've all heard about you, Fitz. Kurt has a few distant relatives, but you and your brother are the only ones he also considers friends."

Her eyes became imploring. "_Please_ be worthy of that, because if I lost him, I honestly don't know what I would do. Trust me when I tell you that I think about that every single day."

Ezra placed a hand on her shoulder. "Kurt can always count on me, Santana. I promise."

She nodded, but doubt was plain on her face. "Well, good, then."

"We're all here for him," Emily said. "We're here for all of you."

Santana was embarrassed and furious by the tears which sprang to her eyes. "Thanks," she said shortly. "Let's go in and decide what we want to order." She turned on her heel and stormed into the house.

"This sucks," Hanna hissed.

"I honestly never believed we'd find a group our own age who has it worse than us," Spencer murmured, shaking her head.

"I like them," Emily whispered.

"So might A," Aria said darkly. "Let's make sure our mess doesn't spill over onto them."

The girls nodded somberly.

Ezra said nothing.


	2. A is for Acclimation

**Author's Note**: This chapter has a very brief mention of a crossover fandom which may or may not appear more fully down the road. If you miss it, no worries.

* * *

><p>"Who the fuck are you all?"<p>

Ezra and the girls turned around, astonished at the casual way this was uttered in a tone that bordered on pleasant. They found a shirtless tool with a cheesy mohawk and a seriously awesome chest.

"Well, hello, dirty bird," Hanna chirruped.

Puck offered a filthy smirk and a gun show in reply.

Kurt breezed into the kitchen and rolled his eyes. "Everyone, Noah Puckerman. Noah, these are people more attractive and interesting than yourself. Of course, that describes the entire global population."

Puck glared at the newcomers. "You can call me Puck. Only the G Factor has authorization to use my government name." He then proceeded to pout. "Princess, why are you trying to hurt me? You know I'm awesome."

Kurt gave him a most unimpressed look. "What did you set fire to this time?"

Puck blushed, looked down, and toed at the floor. "Just some leaves and twigs," he muttered. He raised his head, eyes bright. "But I checked and it's totally legal in this county! Reduce, reuse, recycle!"

Kurt sighed and shook his head.

Mike entered the room and rested his head on Kurt's shoulder. "Thank you, Captain Planet."

Puck pursed his lips, irritated with the other boy's proximity to Kurt.

"The _G Factor_?" Spencer repeated, brow arched.

Puck leaned in toward her. "The _G_ stands for _gay_."

Spencer's mouth opened.

"Thanks," Hanna snarked, "but we learned how to get to Sesame Street when we were three." Her eyes brimmed over with innocence. "What took _you_ so long?"

Emily and Aria snickered as Spencer and Ezra smirked.

Kurt nodded with approval. "That was good."

Hanna preened as Mike nodded.

Kurt turned and passed Mike a sheaf of paper. "I found an old menu in one of the drawers. I called the restaurant and they're still in business, so write down what you want."

Mike grinned, chirped a thank you, and began perusing the menu.

Puck groaned. "Takeout again?" he whined. "When are you going to make some real food, Princess?"

Kurt's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not your houseboy, Noah. Learn to cook for yourself or go without." His brow raised. "You've been doing that a lot lately, haven't you?"

Puck was wounded. "Way harsh, dude."

Kurt carefully blew out a breath. "I haven't had time to go to the grocery, Noah," he said more sedately. "Quinn ran out to grab some necessities, but we need to do major shopping. After I have, I'll cook more, I promise."

"I'll help," Puck said with seriousness. "I used to cook for Grace all the time." He startled at the sound of her name despite that he was the one to say it.

Kurt crossed the room and pulled Puck into a tight embrace.

The others watched without comment.

"Grace was Puck's little sister," whispered a fidgeting Mike. "She was killed in the crash. She was eleven."

Emily and Hanna's eyes welled.

"Don't say anything about her to him," Mike continued. "It will only make him more upset."

They nodded.

Puck held on to Kurt until he could pull himself together. He soon disengaged. "So who are these people, Princess? I didn't know we were having guests."

"This is my cousin, Ezra Fitz. I told you about him."

Puck blinked. "Oh, right! Nice to meet you, dude," he said, holding out a hand.

Ezra shook it and introduced the girls. Emily, who bore more than a passing resemblance to Santana, attracted the preponderance of his attention.

She gave him a wry smirk. "I'm on Team G Factor."

Puck sighed as his shoulders slumped. "Totally should have seen that one coming." He looked around. "Where is Satan, anyway?"

Hanna sniggered.

"She went upstairs to change," Kurt said quietly. "She had a flashback."

Ezra and the girls looked askance at one another.

"Should I go up there?" asked an anxious Puck.

"Let her be," Kurt advised, knowing Santana and Noah together were combustible even in the most innocuous moments. He turned to the others. "We were all part of the search and rescue." His eyes filled. "Santana and I found Brittany."

Puck's lip wobbled before he spun on his heel and stared out the windows behind him, cursing under his breath.

"Oh, god," Ezra said lowly. "Kurt, why didn't you tell me? I had no idea you were involved."

Kurt shrugged a diffident shoulder. "They were our friends and family," he whispered.

"Were you and Brittany close?" asked a gentle Aria.

Puck tackled Kurt with a hug.

"We were," Kurt warbled. "Brittany was very special to all of us, but particularly Santana and myself." He wasn't interested in saying more and the others had the grace to let the subject drop.

He patted Puck on the back and the other boy reluctantly released him.

Kurt cleared his throat and faked a smile. "So are your parents coming?"

"Mine are," Aria said, looking nervously at Ezra. "My mom is Ella and my Dad is Byron. She's an English teacher at Rosewood and he's an English professor at Hollis. I asked my brother Mike, but he already had plans."

Kurt nodded. "And your parents' views on your, er, unconventional relationship?"

Ezra snorted. "Let's just say they're not thrilled. It's particularly difficult for Ella as she and I are colleagues and have to see each other every day." He tilted his head. "But I also think she's more accepting than Byron."

Aria nodded.

Puck had put the pieces together and was smart enough not to comment. He didn't want to piss off Kurt's cousin and thus put Kurt on the defensive.

"My mom is coming, too," Hanna piped up. "Her name is Ashley. She's the branch manager at Rosewood Federal. She's totally cool. You know, for a mom."

"Hanna's mom is the best," Emily confirmed. "I invited my mom, but she can't make it." A fact for which she was incredibly thankful. "She works at the police station and has to do some overtime." She shrugged. "My dad is a Marine. He was stationed in Afghanistan but is now in Texas."

She stared blankly when Puck saluted her.

Kurt smiled. "You'll find we're a very patriotic household. Our political views might differ, but our military has our complete support. Please tell your father how grateful we are for his service."

She blushed and gave a bashful smile. "That will mean a lot to him, coming from you. He was a big fan of your dad and how much he supported the troops."

"My parents are coming, too," Spencer interjected. She grimaced. "Be prepared for my father to suck up at the speed of light and for my mother to attempt to charm you. Thankfully my sister won't be attending."

Kurt smirked. "That would be Melissa, right? I've already had the ... pleasure."

Spencer was taken aback.

Kurt shrugged. "She was at the office when I went to close. I found her very ... bewildering."

She supposed she should have offered some halfhearted defense of Melissa but couldn't be summon the indignation. After all, she knew her sister. Well, as much as anyone _could_ know Melissa.

"I apologize if she offended you," Spencer said, sighing.

"She didn't," Kurt said, "and please forgive me if I've given any offense, but lately I simply can't be bothered with pretense. Melissa was perfectly pleasant, but there's an undercurrent of condescension in her demeanor and, for whatever reason, she was trying to compete with me."

He shook his head in confusion. "The why of it escaped me. She's an attorney and I'm in high school, but it was as though she didn't know how to relate to me as anything but opposition."

"Gee, _there's_ a radical shift in her priorities, huh, Spence?" Hanna drawled.

Spencer laughed despite herself and bumped Hanna's shoulder with her own.

"Oh," Kurt said nodding, "I get it. I had a similar relationship with Finn's girlfriend Rachel. Apparently we were in a competition and I was the last to know." He smiled fondly. "She drove me absolutely insane but, at the end of the day, she was mine, you know? And anyone who attacked her answered to me."

She smiled. "Totally."

"Hi."

Kurt looked past the girls, his face breaking out into a smile. "Hey, you. Come here."

A human giraffe slowly crossed the room in socked feet, absently scratching his ribs. He appeared as though he had just awoken from a troubled sleep.

Puck discreetly moved to the side.

Kurt wrapped an arm around the new arrival. "This is my brother, Finn," he explained. "Finn, this is my cousin Ezra and some new friends: Hanna Marin, Spencer Hastings, Emily Fields, and Aria Montgomery."

"Hello, Kurt's cousin and pretty girls," Finn said quietly. He turned back to his brother. "Kurty, I had another nightmare."

Kurt's face was at once concerned. "How bad?"

Finn shrugged. "Not as bad, I guess, but it still hurts. It's going to hurt for a long time, huh?"

Kurt took Finn's face in his hands and stroked the apple of a cheek, smiling gently when Finn closed his eyes and released a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"It's not your fault. Hug?"

Kurt wrapped his arms tightly around Finn, who laid his cheek on Kurt's shoulder, a few bitter tears escaping.

Spencer was surprised by the emotion such a simple act engendered within her. She couldn't even remember the last time she and Melissa had hugged.

"Where are the others?" Finn asked.

"Quinn went to the store and Santana is up in her room."

"Is she okay?" Finn asked. "Santana, I mean."

"Not really."

Finn nodded. "Should I go talk to her?"

Kurt debated the idea. Santana and Finn didn't usually get along under the best of circumstances, but these circumstances weren't the best. The crash had brought them together in a way no one could have foreseen. Losing their parents, as well as Rachel and Brittany, had created an intimacy their one night together never could have accomplished.

"It might be a good idea," Kurt said. He knew Finn wasn't really ready to meet new people and just hoped Noah would be understanding, which appeared to be the case.

"Okay." Finn turned to the guests and nodded. "It was nice to meet you." He toddled from the room in a daze.

"He's on light sedation," Kurt said quietly after ensuring Finn had begun walking up the stairs. "He has severe panic attacks and horrible nightmares. He sleeps too much but it's not a recuperative sleep. He can only manage a few hours at a time but averages about twelve to fourteen hours total per day."

"Is he getting any help?" asked a concerned Emily.

"We've been looking at local therapists," Kurt said. "There's a Dr. Sullivan who has a good reputation, so we've scheduled an interview for next week."

The girls, by silent declaration, elected not to mention their past relationship with Dr. Sullivan.

"She's interviewing you to be her patients?" asked a dubious Hanna.

"Of course not," Kurt replied. "I'll be interviewing and judging her accordingly."

"Why can't you be straight?" she pouted.

Puck rolled his eyes and threw up his arms in the air. "_Jesus_, if I had a dollar for _every girl_ who had ever asked him that, I could buy my own island and be the next Johnny Depp."

"In your dreams, Hebrew National," Kurt shot back.

Puck snickered. "I love you, Princess. Your bitchiness gets us through the day."

"I'm Kurt Hummel."

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, those present had decided what they wanted to order for dinner, the girls also writing down choices for their parents and, in Spencer and Hanna's cases, their boyfriends. Kurt placed the orders and paid for everything, much to Spencer's consternation.<p>

"Don't be ridiculous," Kurt scoffed. "You're guests in my home. It's already poor form that I'm ordering a meal rather than preparing it myself, but to have you contribute? What would Martha say?"

"She'd say it was a _good thing_," Spencer snapped back. "We aren't really guests. Aria invited us after Ezra invited her. You didn't even know we were coming! It's _poor form_ for us to show up on your doorstep and expect you to feed us!"

Kurt gave her a withering look. "I live in a house with three other boys who are bottomless pits. I could put together what you and the other girls ordered and Finn would consider it an after-dinner snack."

Her eyes widened. "Whoa."

"Precisely." He waved a hand. "Don't worry about things so much, Spencer. I'm pleased you offered but it really isn't necessary. If you want, next time you can host a little gathering and supply the food, okay?"

She wanted to pout but settled instead for crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

"Let's talk about more interesting things," Kurt suggested, "like the best places around here for shopping."

Santana was suddenly looming in the doorway. "I heard the magic word."

Kurt snorted. "I swear, it's like summoning Rumplestiltskin." He shook his head. "Finn?"

Santana's face turned troubled. "Sleeping."

"You don't want to talk to Hanna about shopping?" asked a curious Spencer, trying to deflect the sad mood threatening to overtake them all.

"Hanna's taste is exquisite and I once shared it but, after Dad was elected, I became conscious of the media's gaze on me." He shrugged. "I decided that I wasn't interested in sponsoring certain designers but instead certain looks; specifically, those which are classic and tailored yet sophisticated with an understated elegance." He raised a brow. "That's you, honey."

She stared, honestly having no idea what to say. She loved her wardrobe and considered herself to possess good taste, but her parents often said she could do better, as did Melissa. In Spencer's opinion, Melissa dressed like a matron half of the time and a nun the rest of it. She was trying to so hard to copy their mother, but at least Veronica had some sense of whimsy. Melissa's wardrobe was dark and dour, much like its wearer.

As for her friends, Hanna had always been the fashion-conscious one. Even before she had lost the weight, Hanna always knew what looked good on her but had allowed Alison to run roughshod over her choices and donning overlarge sweats. Now Hanna was like a fashion model parading around the latest offerings and looked damned good doing it. She combined pieces from various designers to create a look that was modern and trendy, but also a true representation of her spirit.

It was Aria's style of which Spencer was envious. To call it quirky was a gross disservice. Aria pulled together pieces which, logically, had no sense being paired, but, once on her, looked incredible. She mixed colors and patterns and materials with an idea in her mind only she could understand and never exactly explain. She combed through secondhand stores and flea markets and her mother's closet for pieces. She paired modern with vintage and postmodern with Victorian and - somehow, impossibly - had carved out a style all her own, from clothes to jewelry to shoes to handbags and even hats. Aria was a true original and cared not a whit what anyone thought of her style.

Emily had always worn understated garments that were simple and classic. She wasn't very adventurous, but always looked good and pulled together. She favored form and ease of movement over style and frivolity and, despite good-natured ribbings from her friends, had never felt compelled to change who she was to suit how other people thought she should look. Spencer was of the opinion that some of Emily's wardrobe choices reflected the opinion of her repressed mother, but then some funky earrings or awesome shoes were added and Emily was _Emily Fields_.

Her friends were so very individual, as were their wardrobes. She was pleased and felt somewhat thrilled that it was her style which called to Kurt. After all, he was well known in the press for his tasteful sense of fashion. He had been photographed mostly in his school uniform or at social or charitable events which demanded a tuxedo or other formalwear. He always looked gorgeous, but his own personal sense of style, whatever that was, had never been truly captured.

"I do need to go shopping for back-to-school clothes," she said slyly.

Kurt beamed as Santana began jumping up and down.

"What's all the ruckus?" Hanna demanded, appearing behind Santana with the other girls in Ezra in tow.

"Shopping," Spencer, Santana, and Kurt all said.

Hanna's eyes lighted before glazing over. "This ... is almost orgasmic."

Emily shook her head. "Really, Han?"

"Yes," said a very serious Hanna.

Emily just smiled. Hanna was Hanna and she wouldn't want the girl any other way.

The doorbell chimed a new arrival and Kurt began heading for the door, everyone following.

"This is like _Clue_," Kurt murmured.

"I am soooo Yvette," Hanna said.

"And do you have the costume to pull off that role?" Kurt asked lightly.

She simply smirked.

He chuckled and opened the door, greeted by two attractive adults who stared at him as though he couldn't possibly exist.

"Mom! Dad!" Aria exclaimed, shooting forward and coming to stand next to Kurt. "This is my friend, Kurt Hummel."

Ella blinked owlishly and realized she and Byron looked like idiots. "I apologize for staring, Mr. Hummel. Aria neglected to mention the identity of her new friend."

Kurt turned to Aria. "Good one."

She snickered.

Kurt stuck out his hand. "It's no trouble, Mrs. Montgomery. It's a pleasure to meet you." He then turned to Aria's father. "Dr. Montgomery," he said slowly, "until Aria mentioned your first name, I didn't put the pieces together. Congratulations on your article in this month's _American Literature_. I found your close reading of Hawthorne's use of poetics in _The Scarlet Letter_ very compelling."

Byron continued to stare. "You read it? Someone actually _read_ it?"

Kurt grinned. "I'm the kind of nerd who reads academic journals and writes papers for fun," he said, shrugging, "and American literature is one of my favorite genres."

Byron shook his hand enthusiastically, cheesing like a fool.

Ella and Aria exchanged a look, rolling their eyes and smiling fondly.

Before anyone knew what was happening, Spencer had joined Kurt and Byron and they began discussing the merits of Hawthorne's lesser known canon.

"And that's enough of study hall," Hanna huffed, dragging Spencer and Kurt back across the threshold, leaving Aria to escort her parents inside and shut the door behind them.

"I can't believe I'm actually standing in the MacCallister house," Ella said quietly, eyes wide as she stared around in wonder.

"Isn't it glorious?" said a wistful Hanna.

Ella was proud of Hanna for her choice of word. The house was indeed glorious. Something so large and so old and so _much_ should have been obnoxious and ostentatious but, despite its grandiloquence, it was tasteful and almost subdued. The dove gray walls in the foyer appeared to absorb and reflect light simultaneously, while the black and white marble tile made the space look much larger than it actually was.

Granted, the three-tiered crystal chandelier suspended above them was over the top, and she didn't even want to think about how something like that would be cleaned, but it somehow worked.

"I'm not sure what I was expecting," Byron said. "The estate has been vacant for so long, I guess I thought it would be musty and everything would have sheets thrown over it, but this is surprisingly homey."

Kurt was happy for the praise. "That's mostly Quinn's doing. She has a real knack for interior design, though she has no true interest in it." He blinked. "Oh, forgive me. Quinn Fabray is one of my housemates, but she's out right now. She should be back soon. These are the rest of my housemates, my friends Santana Lopez, Noah Puckerman, and Mike Change," he said, introducing them in turn. "My brother Finn is upstairs resting."

He paused. "Of course you know the other girls and my cousin Ezra."

Ella's eyebrows all but shot off her head as Byron scowled, apparently not having noticed Ezra until the man was brought to his attention.

Kurt smiled vacantly. "I'm so pleased to welcome you all and we're very happy for your company. As I'm sure you're aware, Dr. and Mrs. Montgomery, our lives have been very difficult the past few months. It's a relief that our fresh start has taken off so well."

His tone was pleasant but also sharp, the message loud and clear. Kurt honestly didn't care about whatever arguments his cousin had with Aria's parents. Those arguments had no place in his home.

Ella grabbed her ex-husband's hand in warning and Bryon reluctantly relented, giving Ezra a gruff nod.

"Is anyone else joining us?"

The girls chimed in with the news that most of their parents, as well as Caleb and Toby, were on their way.

"Who's Toby?" Kurt asked.

"My boyfriend," said a blushing Spencer. "I apologize for not asking you first, but I figured that since you allowed Hanna to invite Caleb, you wouldn't mind ... "

He shrugged. "I've always found it's easier to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. Of course I don't mind, but the pertinent question is this: how hot is Toby? Caleb is apparently a twenty-three on a ten-point scale."

Hanna beamed smugly.

"Toby's very hot," said a supportive Emily. She gave a shy smile. "He's my best friend. He's a really great guy."

Kurt noted the lack of reaction the other girls had to her claim of Toby being her best friend. He presumed that she meant Toby was her best _male_ friend, which he completely understood. He turned to Byron and Ella. "The kitchen is straight down at the end of the hall. I put on a pot of coffee and you're more than welcome to help yourselves."

"Ambrosia!" Spencer shrieked, tearing down the hall.

"Wow," Santana murmured.

"Spencer is a serious caffeine junkie," Hanna said. She then frowned. "Actually, we all are."

"Another reason our relationship was meant to be," Kurt purred at her.

She groaned. "I just know I'm going to end up falling in love with you and getting my heart broken."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

Santana sighed. "Yeah, he has that effect. We've all been through it and I'm a lesbian."

"Nobody's that gay," Emily muttered.

They turned to her and stared. She gave them her most innocent look and smirked when they burst out laughing.

Aria began dragging her parents down the hallway. "You _have _to see the library!" she exclaimed, actually drooling. She sent very effective puppy eyes at Kurt, who waved his hand in permission.

Ashley Marin was the next to arrive and Kurt fell in like with the mother as quickly as he had the daughter. Ashley's sense of humor was even darker and more pointed than Hanna's and he reveled in it. She brought with her a bottle of wine, expecting to be meeting parents. Kurt surprised her by launching into a brief lecture of the vintner while looking at the bottle with deep longing. Ashley lamented that it was just her luck to find a connoisseur drinking partner who was underage. She then demanded to know what his mortgage rate was because she was sure she could get him a better deal. When he hesitantly replied that he had no mortgage, she was bowled over.

Ella and Byron had by then rejoined them, leaving the library before setting up residence, and overheard.

"Why would he have a mortgage?" asked a bored Hanna. "He's got major bucks." She turned to Kurt. "Aren't you descended from royalty?"

"Very distantly," said an uncomfortable Kurt. "Most people with almost exclusive European ancestry are in some manner."

"But you've got a title," she protested.

"Which means absolutely nothing," he said. "It doesn't come with any perks and the only people impressed with it are the noveau-riche who scour the internet for their own titles to purchase, convinced it's their ticket to relevancy." He shrugged. "Technically Santana is an Aztec princess, but it's not like that gives her any real power."

"I was gypped," the girl in question griped.

"Shortly after my father married my stepmother, I did a genealogy search," Kurt said. "Finn is actually nobility through his matrilineal line. I'm in the process of procuring his familial title, but it's all very involved. It's currently held by his eighteenth cousin many times removed. Even though Finn is a more direct descendent, it's all about politics."

"Then why are you doing it?" Byron asked. "As you said, it means very little."

Kurt was silent for several moments, obviously considering his response. "Carole was one of the kindest, gentlest, most wonderful people I've ever had the privilege to know. She was also strong as hell. Finn's father was killed in the first Iraq war and she raised Finn almost entirely on her own. She worked hard and sacrificed a lot. She was completely dedicated to her only child."

He paused. "She once told me that finding and marrying my father was the first piece of happiness she had found for herself after losing Christopher; except for Finn, of course. Finn adored his mother. She was his entire world. Before we became a family, Finn had always been so desperate for a father and he loved mine like a true son would, but he also realized his mother had been both parents to him and she had done an amazing job."

He shrugged. "So I'm doing this for Carole as well as Finn. She was his queen, for lack of a better word, and I want him to know she came by it honestly. That strength ran through her veins and now runs through his. He should be as proud of it, and of himself, as he was of her."

He blushed. "If that makes sense."

Ashley gave him a side-hug. "You're a hell of a kid."

"He certainly is."

They turned around and saw Veronica and Peter Hastings standing there. Spencer had obviously let them in. The others hadn't even noticed the doorbell.

"Mr. Hastings," Kurt said cordially, holding out his hand.

The man took it in both of his. "It's wonderful to see you again, Kurt, and, please, I told you to call me Peter."

Spencer didn't like where this was going.

Kurt turned toward Veronica, though not removing himself from her husband's grasp. "Good evening, Mrs. Hastings."

She nodded kindly. "Kurt," she said. "Please call me Veronica."

Suddenly, Ashley, Ella, and Byron were at their sides and they began holding a conversation about the house, the upcoming school year, and a host of other topics. Kurt was simply included as they would have any peer, much to the confusion and consternation of the others.

Spencer, Aria, Hanna, and Emily stood off to the side.

"Is this actually happening?" Hanna demanded.

"Princess has always related to adults better than he has kids our age," Puck interjected, coming to stand with them along with Santana and Mike, who nodded.

"Kurt's mom died when he was really young," Mike said, "and it was just him and his dad. He didn't really have friends until our sophomore year, so he was always surrounded by adults."

"It's a consequence of his big brain and having to grow up so fast," Santana added. "Quinn's the same way. Don't get me wrong; they can both be down, but they're never truly comfortable with their peers."

"Am I like that?" a startled Spencer asked her friends.

"Yes," they chorused.

She pouted.

"No offense," Santana said, leaning into her, "but Tink was right. Your dad's hot."

Spencer grimaced.

Santana raised a brow. "Take a look, sweetie. I've seen less flirting at a sex addict's support group meeting."

Spencer's eyes filled with horror and she craned her neck to see through the crowd. She was absolutely appalled. Her father _was_ flirting with Kurt - and _very_ openly - and no one was saying _anything_ about it! Kurt was blushing and giggling and patting Peter's arm, and her father's eyes were glowing. Her own mother simply looked amused!

"This can't be real life," she insisted.

"What's going on?" Ezra chirped. "I finally found the bathroom, by the way. Why is it under the staircase?"

Aria yanked on his arm and directed him toward the spectacle.

Ezra just laughed. "Oh, come on. Neither one of them means anything. It's all a dance. Kurt is probably the most high profile client Peter has ever or will ever land. He's going to do everything in his power to keep him, so what's a little harmless flirting? Veronica doesn't seem bothered."

He turned and looked at Aria and her friends. "You also have to remember the role that Kurt played in the campaign and subsequent administration. It was larger than that of the president's own children. He brought a lot of attention to the charities that interest him. He even sits on the boards of a few of them. He has a lot of powerful friends who just so happen to be older than him."

"What do you mean?" Aria asked. "How was he involved?"

"Well, at first, the press didn't take much notice of a fifteen year old, but Kurt is very politically active and culturally aware and saw the president's campaign as a platform to run his own. He has very specific views and wanted an avenue to bring them to national attention. He's very bright but, more than that, he's incredibly articulate. He knows how to speak to adults so that they'll listen.

"He's also passionate about his politics and that's a big deal. A lot of politicians, once they get to Washington, are only interested in keeping their jobs, not about why they were elected in the first place. They become very jaded. So to be exposed to someone as young as Kurt who is also smart and ambitious, can be a little enthralling. They listen to him when he speaks."

Ezra shrugged. "That's also something he's very careful about. Kurt has a lot of opinions, but he mostly keeps them to himself. He doesn't comment when prompted, but only when he feels moved. So when he opens his mouth, people tend to pay attention. He's very astute but also mindful about what he says."

Mike nodded. "It also helps that he's apolitical. He's not a Democrat, like his dad was, and he's not a Republican, though he shares many of their views. He's already announced that, when he's able to register to vote, he'll register as an Independent. He loves politics but only the issues, not the players or their games. A lot of people find that refreshing."

"He sympathizes with _Republicans_?" asked an appalled Hanna.

"Well, the party has been pretty much hijacked by the Religious Right," Puck interrupted. "It wasn't always about the moral majority." He grimaced when they stared at him. "Don't look so surprised, you weenies. I can read. _You_ should read up on the history of the Republican party. It's not what it used to be."

Emily frowned. "But I've read interviews with Kurt. He's pro-choice and pro-gay marriage."

Santana nodded. "Definitely, but those statements need to be qualified. Kurt himself doesn't believe in abortion insofar as he himself would never have one. Of course, the issue is irrelevant to him in that particular circumstance, so his rationales instead become about public health, safety, and privacy.

"He believes that if a woman chooses to have an abortion, she should be able to make that choice on her own, for herself, with no interference from anyone, especially the government, and that she should have access to qualified doctors and a safe environment. What he does not believe is that abortion should be used for birth control or completely subsidized with tax dollars."

Spencer nodded. "I actually agree with him on that."

Aria and Emily looked fairly convinced but on the fence. Hanna looked murderous.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Let me put it this way: if I got pregnant, regardless of how, and wanted to terminate the pregnancy, Kurt would completely support my right to do so. He wouldn't counsel me. He's an atheist, so this isn't a religious issue for him. He wouldn't allow me to be subjected to protesters or transvaginal ultrasounds or any of that bullshit. He would go with me. He would walk into the clinic holding my hand, stay with me for the procedure, and then drive me home and take care of me for as long as I needed. _That's_ the kind of man he is."

"Kurt's all about choice," Mike said, "because he never got a lot of choice in his life. His main thing is privacy. He thinks the government is becoming dangerously interfering in our everyday lives."

"I think so, too," Emily said, "but what about gay marriage?"

"Kurt supports it because he believes that everyone should have the right to choose with whom they want to spend their lives," Ezra said, "and I know that he wanted to marry Sam one day, but he doesn't believe in marriage itself as an institution. He thinks it's archaic and predominantly religious, and doesn't feel the government should have the right to mandate it.

"I'm not sure he's wrong," he thoughtfully continued. "As it stands, modern marriage is more about tax breaks and benefits than it is any holy union, and Kurt _does_ believe that all couples, regardless of sex or gender, should have equal protection and access to services under the law."

"I don't get it," Hanna said plainly.

"Basically," Puck said, "Kurt thinks marriage should be a religious thing only, that it takes place in churches or synagogues or whatever and is blessed by some holy person, but that's where it ends. It should have no bearing in the legal world. Like, let's say I married Santana and then I got sick. As my wife, she gets all my stuff and she can make decisions for me. That's understood under the law because she's my wife.

"Now, if I married Mike, that wouldn't hold under federal law. Kurt thinks that it _should _be, that Mike should have all the rights afforded to him as Santana would as my spouse, but, as of right now, that wouldn't happen. He's in favor of civil unions. Couples would be legally joined and they enjoy all the rights that married couples currently do under the law. Then, if they wanted to get married, they could do, but it would just be a religious ceremony."

Aria blinked. "That makes sense."

Santana shrugged. "Yeah, he usually does, so people listen. Still, he knows the press is just waiting for him to say a wrong word or make a bad choice so they can pounce on him, so he usually shuts up when asked inflammatory questions. He believes in a strong defense for the country, but when asked about foreign policy, he'll always deflect and draw notice to the military, which has his absolute support. He _does_ get really worked up about veterans' issues, though. He thinks it's disgraceful that a country who sends their citizens off to war then refuses to take care of them when they return."

"Well, it is," Emily said with heated vehemence, thoughts weighing heavily on her father.

"I'm happy you feel that way," Kurt said, smiling.

Slowly, they turned toward him, very aware Kurt and the adults had been listening to their debate on his political beliefs.

"As the others mentioned, I'm apolitical and an atheist, so my politics are divorced from religious doctrine and party lines."

"So how do you determine your stance on any given issue?" asked an interested Veronica.

"Reason," he said frankly. He was silent for a long moment. "It troubles me, this notion that we have to take sides in this country now, this _you're either with us or against us_ mentality, Republican or Democrat, red state or blue state."

He shook his head in exasperation. "No one looks at an issue anymore and struggles over the right position to take, yet our ability to reason is what makes us human." He sighed. "But, lately, we as a nation seem _so willing_ to forfeit that gift of reason in exchange for the good feeling of belonging to a group. We all just take the position of our team, whatever that might be." He gave a wry smile. "I've never been much of a team player."

He scoffed. "Besides, they're all the same. Republicans and Democrats play party games to get elected, but once they get to Washington they compromise their own consciences and the physical and mental health of their constituents to remain there."

"So what's the answer?" Hanna asked. "No more political parties?"

"That's too much to hope for," he drawled. "The answer, albeit a melodramatic and overly hopeful and simplistic one, is that people return to thinking for themselves. They stop expecting the government to take care of them. They need to be wary. They need to be cautious. They need to demand true transparency. The government isn't its own entity, it belongs to all of us and it's up to all of us to keep it honest. If we don't, then we're the ones causing the problems we all sit around and bitch about."

"Marry me," Ashley breathed.

"Ashley!" Ella shrieked, giggling hysterically.

She was unrepentant. "I've never heard one person make so much sense!"

Kurt pursed his lips. "And if I ever said those words in a debate or an interview or in a speech, I'd be ridiculed in the media for the rest of my life."

"That's probably true," Byron said quietly, "and more's the pity."

"So if you had the power, what's the first thing you would change?" Ezra asked.

"Mandatory term limits," Kurt promptly replied. "Historically, being a politician was never a career. It was public service, not a lifetime appointment. We need to accept that, after a certain amount of time, politicians, no matter their good intentions, become hacks who no longer truly represent the interests of the people.

"Every four years, the entire legislative and executive branches should be dismissed. Allowing parties to become entrenched in positions of power for decades means that no true social progress happens. If the law were changed so that people served only one term, they'd be much more motivated to advance their agendas than their own personal comfort."

"I take it you're never running for office," Spencer drawled.

He shuddered. "God, no."

"Too bad," she said. "You're exactly what we need."

"And then I become a poster boy and an entire movement rests on my shoulders. If I fail, the ideas fail, because it will be assumed that they cannot succeed without a face. That's the problem with modern media. They're in constant search of publicists, not ideas."

"You would make an excellent attorney," Peter noted.

"I'd rather swallow glass," Kurt deadpanned. "No offense."

"None taken," Peter tinkled.

Spencer was about to throw up. She desperately hoped Toby would soon arrive and distract her from the madness of her father's pseudo-gay midlife crisis.

Ezra crossed his arms and smirked. "Why do I get the feeling you've been hanging out with your other best friend lately?"

"Because he has," Puck said, rolling his eyes.

Kurt blushed. "So what?"

"That lady is loco," Puck barked. "She's crazy intense and talks way too fast and buries bodies in her spare time."

"Which is why she's awesome. Don't talk about her as though you know her, Noah. She's been an incredible friend to me. You have no idea what Washington is really like. You think that just because I'm a minor that people weren't out to get me? Do you even know how many death threats I received? Serious ones."

Puck paled. "What?"

"My father was the Vice President of the United States. He had enemies solely because of his politics. There were people who wanted to hurt him and wanted to use me to do it. There were people who wanted to hurt me to hurt the White House. Being openly gay in Lima is drastically different than being openly gay on a national level." He raised a brow. "You can't even _imagine_."

He sighed. "And it's not just me. August and Lila, the President's own children, were threatened. Often. So was Finn." He shrugged. "It comes with the job, even though there is no real job. People assume that because we're public figures - which we're _not_, by the way, we had no say in that - that we leave ourselves open for public opinion.

"You saw how often the tabloids featured me and Sam. Every time we tried to go anywhere together, it was a media frenzy. People would shout horrible, obscene things to us to provoke us, all in the name of getting a bad picture. There are gay political action groups who openly maligned us because we refused to get rainbow tattoos and march in their parades. Religious groups hated us because we weren't ashamed of who we were.

"Remember the accident Finn had when he went to test for his DC license?" he continued with a raised brow. "There was speculation that it happened because he was drunk or high, which was just ridiculous. He's _Finn_ and he was nervous. An online petition was started to raise the driving age to eighteen because of that!

"Lila's first date was reported on CNN as if it were actual news. Here's a fifteen year old girl, who had waited and waited for the boy she liked to ask her out and, when he _finally_ does, their entire date is photographed against their will and commented on by every media outlet. They called her fat; she's not. They called her ugly; she's beautiful. They criticized her wardrobe; I picked it out and it was _flawless_."

He sighed. "Unfortunately, the idiot who she thought liked her liked the attention more, cheesing for the cameras like a Kardashian. He even had the audacity to lie and claim he slept with her when the truth of the matter was she had refused when he tried to kiss her. But no one cared about the truth. He got his fifteen minutes, which he tried to parlay into being the next Levi Johnston, but it failed because there was no out-of-wedlock baby.

"All the children of presidents and vice presidents have had to go through it," Kurt finished tonelessly.

Hanna blushed because she had followed the First Daughter's date with great interest and had even thought the guy, Evan Something, was cute. Now she felt nothing but sorry for the girl and ashamed for her small part in perpetuating the rumors.

She loved and missed Alison while simultaneously disliking her and experiencing relief that she was gone. She didn't want to be _like_ her.

"There's a lot you didn't tell us, Tink," Santana said darkly.

He gave her a bland look. "Santana, you are not responsible for me. You can't protect me from everything and I neither need nor want you to do that. I've been protecting myself for a long time now. Besides, it wasn't like I was alone in DC. I _did_ have a Secret Service detail, you know."

She harrumphed as though this made no difference.

He just rolled his eyes.

"Who's the friend who likes to bury bodies?" Spencer pointedly asked him.

"Olivia Pope."

Their mouths all fell open just as the doorbell chimed.

"Dinner!" Kurt enthused.


	3. A is for Annunciation

"Wow," Kurt said slowly to Hanna, unable to refrain from staring at Caleb Rivers, "you really undersold it."

Hanna snickered. Caleb frowned in confusion.

"You are _gorgeous_," Kurt murmured. It was true. Caleb _was_ gorgeous, from his tanned skin to his sleek body to his high cheekbones, he looked like he had just stepped out of a Wilhelmina Ford portfolio. Kurt had no trouble imagining the lean form his clothes barely hid.

He didn't feel guilty in his appraisal, nor did he feel as though he were being unfaithful to Sam. He was still allowed to appreciate genuine beauty, which Caleb had in spades, and one look between Hanna and her boyfriend made clear to everyone how deep their relationship ran. Kurt wouldn't be surprised if they married sooner rather than later, perhaps while even still in college.

He felt his heart ping. He and Sam had used to look at each other the exact same way.

He either didn't notice or chose to ignore the dark look Puck shot their way, or the worried puppy eyes Mike was sporting.

Caleb fought the light blush on his cheeks and smirked. "Wow, so two whole people think I'm gorgeous." He stepped closer to Kurt. "Be careful or I might get a big head."

Kurt blinked. "Well, whoever said that was a bad thing?" he coyly asked.

It took Caleb a moment to glean the meaning, but then his eyes widened and the blush became more furious. "Hanna neglected to mention the identity of her new friend."

"Apparently it's a little game she and Aria like to play."

Caleb pulled a face. "But Aria's the nice one!"

"Hey!" Spencer shrieked after sucking down her third cup of coffee. Kurt wondered if she regularly had an IV infusion of the stuff.

Caleb laughed as he ducked Emily's fist.

"I guess I'm not gorgeous," said a mournful Toby.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Blue Eyes," Santana purred. "You're a stud of the first caliber." She fluttered her lashes. "So what's the story with you and Hastings? I'm guessing the entire _star-crossed lovers_ slash _wrong side of the tracks_ deal."

"There's nothing wrong with Toby's tracks!" Spencer exclaimed.

Kurt peered over at the boy in question, nodding. "I can definitely agree with that."

Toby grinned.

Caleb pouted. "I'm feeling very abandoned here."

Kurt laughed, somewhat in disbelief that he was flirting with two gorgeous boys his own age who had their own stunning girlfriends and were unthreatened by his oh-so-scary gayness. They were even flirting back! It was ... such a nice change, a welcome one.

"Well," Kurt murmured, "we'll just have to do something about that, won't we? Come closer and we'll talk about Hanna behind her back while right in front of her."

Hanna scowled and punched both their shoulders. "That's what we do to _other_ people."

"It is?" Aria, Emily, Toby, and Spencer demanded.

Caleb put his face so close to Kurt's own that their noses were almost touching. "Just how close would you like me to get?"

Kurt gave a shy smile. "On the advice of counsel, I decline to answer on the grounds that I might incriminate myself."

"Very wise," a cheerful Peter interrupted, stepping in between them and spiriting Kurt away for a discussion about some legal matter regarding the estate.

Caleb stood there, blinking, as he watched at them walk away. "I think I was just ousted by another suitor." His pout grew. "My ego is wounded."

"Don't you start, too!" Spencer hissed. She'd had about enough of her father's shenanigans.

Caleb rolled his eyes and sidled up to his girlfriend, greeting her with a brief but breathless kiss.

Hanna giggled. "Hi."

He raised a brow. "You could have warned me."

She traced a finger down the center of his chest. "That's no fun." She paused and her eyes filled with concern. "Did it bother you? His flirting, I mean." She blushed. "I might have told him you were a twenty-three on a ten point scale of hotness and Kurt _is_ a big flirt, but I'll ask him to dial it back if you want."

He shrugged a shoulder. "Didn't bother me at all. I'm very secure with who I am, Han, and, I mean, _come on_, it's Kurt Hummel. He's stupidly beautiful."

She turned smug. "That's exactly what he said about me."

He leaned in and kissed her nose. "Then he and I have the same awesome taste."

She smirked and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Apparently he and I do, as well."

He gave her a wry grin. "How about that?" He licked his lips. "You actually _want _me to kiss him, don't you?"

She shivered but tried to hide it.

His grin became a leer. "Well, there's a kink I never saw coming."

She swatted him and averted her eyes. "Oh, shut up," she muttered.

"Hey," he whispered, leaning in while his eye skirted their surroundings, "I'm just teasing. We've talked about this. I understand."

"I'm not ready to kiss another girl," she hissed. "Not after what Alison did to Emily."

His eyes darkened. They all loved Emily. She really was the sweetheart of the group.

"And I will never be ready to kiss Lucas," he said with reproach, "no matter how shy or nerdy he is, or how nice he's been to you, which, _really?_"

She huffed. The issue of Lucas, she suspected, would long be one standing between them. He probably _was_ on A Team _but_, were it true, she doubted it had been his choice. She knew, she absolutely believed, that he liked her and never wanted to hurt her. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what A was holding over him. She wanted to help him, she did, because he was like her, like how she used to be, like how she still _was_, both before and after Alison's _intervention_.

As much as the other girls claimed to have had the scales removed from their eyes where Alison was concerned, Hanna believed only she really had Alison's true measure. Alison had been awesome and terrible in many ways and, no matter what they said, the girls were still somewhat held in her thrall.

They recognized that she had been secretive and manipulative and an all-around bitch, but she was, for them, some kind of glamorous iconoclast, the jaded prom queen who saw through everything. Whether or not they wanted to admit it, Hanna had _always_ seen through Alison, but had been content enough to follow her because being Alison's lap dog had been better than being the outcast always looking in.

In many ways, Hanna _still_ felt like an outcast, although she was no longer quite as alone. She thought that was what had drawn her to Mona, what _still _drew her to Mona. And, yes, perhaps she _was_ somewhat blinded by Mona, not because she saw her as some unobtainable ideal as she had Ali, but because she knew Mona, she understood Mona.

She _was_ Mona.

Just not quite as desperate and yearning. Not anymore.

Mona really hadn't been treated that badly by Alison. Certainly there were others who had been treated far worse, those who didn't have Mona's intelligence or creativity or money. Alison had resented Mona because she saw not who Mona was, but who she could become. The opportunity had always been there, but Mona hadn't had the courage to seize it until Ali was gone, and that wasn't the fault of Alison or anyone else.

Mona really was such a whiner most of the time. A truly amazing sociopath and tyrant, but a whiner nonetheless.

"Hey," Caleb said softly, "where did you go?"

Hanna repressed a sigh. He didn't understand Mona or their relationship and never would. Caleb would always believe that Hanna was a victim, sometimes a _willing_ victim.

She may have been _victimized_, but she had never been, and never would be, anyone's victim. Especially Mona's victim.

Still, there was part of Caleb, of most boys their age, who saw in themselves the need to rescue a damsel, to be Prince Charming. Well, Hanna had been rescuing herself for a long time now, but she still played roles. She often wondered why she did.

She might not have Spencer's intellect, but she was no dummy. She had aced the SATs. Her grades were more a reflection of her lack of interest than lack of ability.

She could never be the girl next door Emily was, but she also wasn't the coldhearted and dizzy bitch she sometimes portrayed. She played the role because someone needed to; because, even Spencer, for all of her big brain, often couldn't see the forest for the trees; because when Emily set aside her sweetness after being walked on as much as she had, she could become as ruthless as Ali; because Aria, despite all of her passion and romanticism, could often be a depressing realist.

So it was up to Hanna to provide the balance, to be the foil, to make sure they didn't get sequestered into the roles Alison had long ago selected for them.

Sometimes it was utterly exhausting being the only one who could see things clearly, so she would often pretend she couldn't see anything at all. The girls needed a follower so that they could lead but, unlike Alison, Hanna was mostly content to lead from the shadows. She didn't need the glory; she just needed to be needed.

And as for Caleb and herself and their little confessions ...

"You and Kurt would be hot," she admitted, "and I'd totally be down to watch that kind of awesome action, but no pressure. I know I pushed you on Lucas, mostly because I hate seeing him so lonely, but you're not responsible for making him feel better and neither am I. He has to want to do that for himself ... even if he does stare at your butt more than he ever did mine." She shrugged. "Besides, Kurt isn't lonely. He's grieving."

A look of compassionate surprise flared in his eyes. Wow, did he really think she was averse to the feelings of others? No, she knew Caleb saw her, the _real _her, more than anyone else did, but she sometimes had a tendency to leave the mask in place even in his company.

His lips curved into a seductive smile. His eyes darted toward Kurt, who had managed to dislodge Peter from his side and had engaged Toby in a conversation about the architecture of the house and some possible carpentry work."He's pretty hot. And very pretty."

"Don't tease," she cautioned. "You're not trying to get me all ... hot and bothered here, are you?"

He smirked and leaned in. "He got me hard."

She bit her lip. "I love it when we're whores."

He kissed her gently. "Me too."

"Even if it's only in our heads."

"That's the best part."

* * *

><p>"It's an amazing house," Toby whispered in reverence, as he ambled along the tour Kurt had earlier provided Ezra and the girls. The Hastings and Montgomerys agreed with his assessment.<p>

Ashley was just hungry.

She was also wondering what her daughter and Caleb were up to. Sometimes she worried that she and Hanna were too close, more best friends than mother and daughter, but she wouldn't have changed their relationship for anything. Hanna could be wild and unpredictable, but those were two qualities she loved most about her daughter; she also shared them.

She often wished she had the friendships her daughter enjoyed, but it had just never happened. She loved Ella dearly, perhaps even considered the woman her best friend, but Ella ... often purposefully, yet _possibly_ unintentionally, blinded herself to the reality around her. Ashley had been taken very aback that Byron's affair had come as such as a surprise to Ella. She was similarly stunned that Aria's relationship with Ezra had so blindsided the woman.

She certainly didn't think she was better than Ella, nor was Hanna better than Aria. They were all very different and those difference were good things, but for all of Ella and Aria's intelligence and pragmatism, they too often got caught up in how they wanted to see things rather than how things actually were.

Ashley herself had seen Byron's midlife crisis looming on the horizon. She had gone through the same thing with her ex-husband. But she couldn't tell Ella that. So instead she just tried to be there for the woman as Ella attempted to stumble back into the dating pool, wading in the untenable waters of being a divorced, middle-aged woman.

As for Aria, well, the signs with her and Ezra were all there, but Ella hadn't wanted to see them. She had instead wanted to trust that Aria knew right from wrong, that she knew how to make good decisions. Ashley believed Aria _did_ know how to do those things. Ezra wasn't _necessarily _ a wrong decision, but an unconventional one. Aria had always been unconventional. Besides, one look at the two of them and anyone could see the love was real. It was shaky and frightened, like a dog abandoned at the pound sensing the probable outcome, but happily-ever-after was also a possibility.

Aria and Ezra _could _make it if they just trusted enough in each other. They didn't, though, and that too was obvious. The fact of the matter was that if Ezra _didn't_ love Aria, he wouldn't have expended as much effort as he had. No twenty-three year old who looked like that needed to wheedle a sixteen year old girl into bed, let alone stay with her for over a year and counting. He loved her but thought she was too good for him. She loved him but thought she wasn't enough for him.

It was all so painfully ironic and stupid.

As for the Hastings, well ...

She liked Veronica and Peter well enough. They were excellent attorneys, truly brilliant, but they were also horrible parents. It wasn't that they didn't love their children but that they loved them too much. They had ruined Melissa; a more miserable bitch had never been born. Oh, Melissa might be devious and cunning and even ruthless, but she was at heart a dilettante who too often relied on Mommy and Daddy when real life got a little _too_ real.

A woman like Ashley - hell, like Ella - could pull Melissa apart with ease. It was all artifice with that girl. She could take on younger members of the pack like Spencer and the others, perhaps even besting them, but Melissa couldn't deal with the challenge of a real woman.

Hell, she barely dealt with Alison and even then had needed help. That Melissa actually blamed _Spencer_ for Ian and Wren putting the moves on her was sickening. They had been grown men chasing after their fiancée's little sister. Instead of calling Chris Hansen to catch those predators, Melissa had called her parents, who, predictably, blamed Spencer for everything.

Ashley truly felt badly for Spencer, who, being born second, had always felt the distance that existed between her and her parents. Melissa was the golden child and really had done nothing to earn the title other than to live up to her parents' unreasonable demands. But that was Melissa in a nutshell: she went along to get along. Her true motivations were always hidden because she didn't really have expectations for herself.

Spencer, on the other hand, was her own person and she suffered for it. The dichotomy in how Peter and Veronica treated their daughters really was horrible to see. Melissa played the game to win her parents' affection, but they only saw her as an extension of themselves. Spencer was the epitome of her parents' personalities, but also possessed a streak of willful independence they tried to quash at every opportunity - the very same independence upon which they prided themselves. Spencer was simply _too much_ like her parents and they resented for it.

Toby had been good for Spencer. He had brought her out of her shell, out of her comfort zone, and made her think about things for herself rather than regurgitating her parents' drivel whenever asked to perform. He stood up to Veronica and Peter who, although initially shocked, had come to respect him for it. At least they knew where Toby stood; Ian and Wren had only ever been interested in sucking up.

Ashley wondered what would happen when Spencer finally stood up for herself and refused to play her parents' games any longer. Sometimes she believed that was exactly what Peter and Veronica were waiting for. They loved Spencer fiercely and Ashley suspected they regretted the mistakes they had made with Melissa. They didn't want to repeat them with Spencer but also didn't know how to avoid them. Essentially, they expected Spencer to figure it out on her own, to govern herself with almost no input from them, which was completely unfair. They only interacted when they felt she had done something wrong, which was pretty much just about everything save breathing.

At last there was Emily, for whom Ashley felt a deep love. If she had had another daughter, she would have wanted Emily to be that daughter. The girl was one of the kindest, gentlest souls the world had ever seen, but Emily was also no milquetoast. She knew her mind and she knew her heart, and that set her above most people of any age.

There had been so many moments when Ashley had wanted to run over to the Fields house and shake Pam to within an inch of her life. She didn't know what the hell that woman's problem was, but it was time for Pam to build a goddamn bridge and get over it. Who cared if Emily was gay? She was still Pam's daughter, was still _Emily_. What did it even matter in the long run?

Ashley had lost count of the nights Emily had to run to her house and they had talked as Ashley held her and stroked her hair. Pam was lucky to have a daughter like Emily, and if the bitch was too stupid to realize that, Ashley had had no trouble pointing it out. Of course, Pam had always just ignored her, so it was left in Ella's hands. Ashley, after all, was a divorced woman, a fallen woman, and didn't fit neatly into the many boxes in which Pam insisted people should willingly place themselves. Ella had still been married to Byron at the time and was thus a more appropriate sounding board.

Emily's love life, however, was a complete disaster. Maya had been sweet but problematic, and her murder had left Emily utterly devastated. Ashley didn't believe they would have worked out in the long run, but the loss of Maya was one which would haunt Emily and color all of her future relationships. For first love to end like that was tragic. She had rebounded much too quickly with Paige, to whom Ashley had never warmed, primarily because Paige would often stare at Emily as though she were a trophy and not an actual person.

Besides, Emily had never gotten Alison out of her system and most likely never would. Oh, yes, Ashley knew all about Alison; the girl had been absolutely shameless in playing with poor Emily's heart. Still, she believed that Alison had felt very deeply for Emily, feelings deeper than friendship. Well, as much as Alison had been able to feel anything.

She was startled to find herself now walking arm-in-arm with Ella toward the kitchen.

"What are you thinking about?" Ella asked quietly.

"Alison. How much I didn't like her and how sorry I am for her death. Regardless of her true motives, she created something wonderful for our girls, didn't she?"

Ella thought about it and at last nodded. Alison had probably brought the girls together for the wrong reasons, but it was hard to argue the outcome. "I think they'll always have each other, even if they're not always as close." She chuckled. "I have no doubt that Aria and Hanna could not speak for ten years and then one would pick up the phone and it would all be _later, that same day_ ... "

Ashley laughed.

The large group made idle chitchat as they carried the takeout into the dining room, an involved process which required several trips. During the last sojourn into the kitchen, the outside door flew inward and a stunning blond stomped her way inside.

For a moment, just a moment, several present would have sworn they had just witnessed the second coming of Alison DiLaurentis.

"Where have you been?" Kurt demanded.

Quinn Fabray looked at the sea of people, blinking in confusion, before finally shaking her head. "Whoever would have thought a town this size had a rush hour?" She pursed her lips. "I'm glad I was running behind. I managed to snatch this right off the presses."

She threw on the counter the evening edition of _The Rosewood Observer_, whose cover was dedicated almost entirely to a picture of Kurt and Finn saluting their parents' passing caskets, as though they were the nation's new JFK Juniors, the caption reading: _Second Sons of the United States Settle in Rosewood_.

Kurt's face darkened. "Well," he drawled, "that's unfortunate."


	4. A is for Agony

Kurt quickly skimmed over the article, a look of distaste plain on his face. Finished, he sighed and passed it to Santana, who narrowed her eyes in annoyance when Puck proceeded to read over her shoulder.

"Well," Mike sighed, "we knew it would get out sooner or later."

Kurt gave a bleak nod. "True, but I was hoping we'd have more lead time. It's a matter of public record, of course, but the realtor actually provided quotes."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Santana demanded.

He rolled his eyes. "Let me guess: I should buy her ReMax franchise and fire her, before then buying her mortgage and evicting her, leaving her an empty soulless husk who would then blow away in the wake of my oncoming storm."

She grinned. "It's like we're twins. Really sexy and evil twins."

Hanna and Caleb snickered.

"This really is a gross invasion of your privacy," Spencer said with reproach. "Just because it's public record doesn't mean she had the right to sell you out like that."

"We could file a nuisance suit," Peter offered. "Nothing much would come of it, but the bad publicity would probably drive her out of business."

Kurt shook his head. "Then I'm reduced to a bully. That's not a great way to start off in a new town."

Quinn delicately cleared her throat.

Once again, Kurt went through the introductions.

Quinn, surprisingly, was pleasant and welcomed the impromptu gathering. She had been worried about making friends in town, particularly ones who would only want to use her to suck up to Kurt and Finn or to get in Puck's pants. As much as she loved her boys, she longed for the female companionship she had enjoyed with Mercedes and then later with Tina. She loved Santana, would always have the girl's back, but they weren't very friendly. Friends, yes, in the truest sense of the word, but not friendly.

Kurt was unsurprised that Quinn was most drawn to Emily, who was eerily reminiscent of Tina in many ways: calm, contemplative, nurturing, but also one not to be crossed lightly. He suspected they would come to enjoy a lasting friendship.

In some way, Quinn had it worse than all of them. She had lost her mother in the crash, but still had her father. The problem was that Russell Fabray had never forgiven Quinn for getting pregnant and his disownment appeared to be permanent. He hadn't even the grace to put in an appearance at his ex-wife's funeral and hadn't been in contact with Quinn since the news of the crash first broke. What a scumball.

Quinn's sister Tricia was kind and was more than happy to have Quinn live with her, but the age difference was so great it made things awkward, particularly because Tricia was recently married and expecting her first child. Quinn hadn't wanted to get in the way of that, which Kurt understood, especially because Quinn had become something of a darling for the paparazzi.

They stalked her often and, for a while, regularly showed up wherever she appeared, even at places as innocuous as Starbucks. It had taken a while, but Kurt had determined a member of his father's former staff, jealous of Quinn's youth and beauty, was responsible for tipping off the leeches. He had been so hurt and betrayed, as well as embarrassed and ashamed that he had indirectly caused Quinn further upset.

She had dismissed it all, of course, claiming he wasn't responsible for the obnoxious intentions of other people. The paparazzi saw in her what they saw in him and so many others: a tragic, pretty face that sold magazines. Quinn was loved by millions of teenage boys, and not a few adult men, because of her looks and body. Teenage girls alternately loved and hated her for her fashion sense, for looking impeccable at every occasion, and for being so close to Kurt himself.

The press had drawn comparisons on multiple occasions. Kurt and Quinn were gorgeous young people seemingly uninterested in the commotion they caused, as though they were somehow complicit in the public's insatiable yearning for fodder. They were referred to as cold and aloof for their lack of interest and interaction with their so-called fans, but that only made the tabloids hungrier.

All of Quinn's past had been dug up and displayed on the cover of every rag gracing a grocery counter: her pregnancy and Beth's subsequent adoption, her father's mistress, her parents' divorce, her friendship with Kurt, her relationships with Finn and Puck, her fledgling relationship with Artie before his death, the crash, and her mother's death.

She had ignored almost all of it and only pressed legal action against one stalker and a magazine who had published unauthorized photos of Beth and Shelby, as well as the general area where Beth lived and the school she attended. Quinn had been utterly ruthless in pursuing those who had targeted her daughter, with Noah lending unquestioning support, and Kurt had never been more proud.

Quinn had matured by necessity, but it had been a mostly seamless transition. She was the one on whom he counted the most, the one who was always rational and forthright but never shied away in defense of her friends. She was a force to behold and he was just glad she was on his side.

"Are you really okay?" she asked his softly, laying a hand on his arm and studying him with searching eyes.

He shrugged a shoulder. "It's not ideal, but it is what it is. The article was fairly balanced and truthful. It could have been a lot worse."

She nodded and let it go. "So what's for dinner?"

* * *

><p>Santana had elected to take Finn Duty for the night, which meant going upstairs and corralling him for dinner. Kurt was just sad it had come to this. Until a few months ago, Finn would have been able to sniff out a meal buried in a bog in the middle of the woods. Now, when he wasn't sleeping or mourning or listless, he was just uninterested ... in everything.<p>

Kurt was hoping that once school started, Finn would try out for the football team or maybe the drama club or just _something_ to occupy his time. He knew he would have to watch his brother like a hawk this year. Learning had never really been a big part of Finn's life and, while his grades were mostly passable, they were still only barely average. Kurt was determined that Finn would go to college.

It had been one of Carole's greatest fears that her son wouldn't go on to get a degree. Kurt had vowed that he would, even if it killed Finn. It would probably kill both of them. Still, maybe forcing Finn to do actual work would inspire some spark within his brother.

Santana watched Finn like a predator, literally poking and prodding him to eat as if to fatten him up. It was necessary, of course, given the amount of medication he was currently taking and weight he had lost. That was another reason Kurt was so desperate to find a decent therapist. He wanted Finn off the sedation. He didn't like having a zombie for a brother.

In many ways, he and Finn were closer than ever. There were moments each would have sworn they could read the other's thoughts. There were no secrets between them now and shared horrors had united them in ways their parents' marriage never could. They regarded each other as true brothers and Finn was just as protective of him as Kurt was of Finn.

Kurt repressed a sigh. He knew one surefire method of rousing Finn would be to fake some problem or upset. Finn would come running to help him and it might be enough to snap him out of his maudlin funk. Kurt didn't want to manipulate him like that, though, so he had yet to engage in such a machination. Still, he kept it at the back of his mind for a possible contingency.

He _had_ noticed that Finn was slightly jealous of his relationship with Ezra. Finn wasn't even trying to hide it, though only Kurt had really picked up on it.

Finn hadn't much minded Puck's relentless flirting because, well, no surprise there. Being inappropriate was pretty much Noah's default state, so it hadn't bothered Finn too much, nor was he upset by how close Mike and Kurt were becoming. Mike was a really nice guy and had been Sam's best friend, so Finn understood that even if Mike _was_ attracted to Kurt, the larger part was about caring for Sam's partner because Sam himself was unable to do so.

Finn unconsciously took up the case in his own mind.

But Ezra was actually _family_, had a biological connection to Kurt. If Kurt had Ezra, why would he need a brother by technicality?

Oh, sure, he knew he was being dumb, but he couldn't help himself. He'd lost so much already and he wouldn't survive if he lost Kurt. Of course he understood that that was an impossibility, that Kurt loved him to hell and back, but even the _thought_ of not having Kurt ...

Finn squashed down that distressing thought, knowing he had to play this carefully. Kurt was already giving him _that_ look, the one that said Kurt knew exactly what he was thinking and a host of other things. It was really hard to get something past Kurt and Finn had pretty much stopped trying.

He didn't understand why he was so self-destructive where Kurt was concerned. He knew Kurt didn't love him anymore in a gay way, and he knew he himself wasn't gay, and ...

Well, okay, he was _pretty sure_ he wasn't gay or even bi or pansexual or whatever. If he ever had _thoughts _about another guy ... in that way ... they _might _have been about Kurt, but Kurt was his brother now and that was just nasty, and even if those thoughts _had_ existed, he would have denied them, because, _gross_.

And maybe he _had_ watched Kurt and Sam have sex, possibly on more than one occasion, but it had been on accident - the first time - and he couldn't _help_ that he had been curious and, _wow_, had it really been hot and _perhaps_ he might have had some dreams about Kurt, then Sam, and then about Kurt _and_ Sam, because after seeing _that_, no one could possibly be _that_ straight. They sure had been beautiful together.

Sex was hot, so therefore gay sex was hot. Right? He couldn't help that he'd gotten hard. You can't just watch two hot people having sex and not get turned on, right? That didn't mean he was gay. It just meant he was _human_.

And Sam might have seen him watching from the corner of his eye, but he hadn't stopped what he was doing to Kurt and he might have gotten off on Finn watching them, just like Kurt had gotten off on Santana and Brittany watching them and Kurt had zero reactions to girls, so it didn't _mean_ anything.

Right?

And if he sometimes wondered how different his life would be if it had been him and Kurt all that time and not him and Rachel or Kurt and Sam, well, that was natural, wasn't it? It was just daydreaming. He wasn't being unfaithful to Rachel, right? He really _had_ loved her, had even wanted to marry her. And she had loved Kurt. She probably would have understood his confusion.

He wished he had talked to her about that. He wished he had told her ... so many things. He wished he had been able to tell her he loved her, just one last time.

He knew part of his confusion about Kurt was how much they now had in common. He knew no one could understand him like Kurt and that he was letting lines blur because part of him knew it would just be so much _easier_ to surrender himself completely and let Kurt do everything for him, but he couldn't, he _wouldn't_, because that would not be fair to Kurt. He couldn't keep doing this, relying on Kurt for everything, expecting Kurt to make everything better, because Kurt had his own stuff to deal with and he'd been putting it off for too long now.

He had to get off these drugs. They were making everything fuzzy and weird. They weren't helping him anymore. He knew he had to help himself. He knew Kurt would help him if he asked, that they all would, so maybe that's all he had to do. He just had to ask.

He turned to Santana. "Can I talk to you later?"

Her brows gathered. "Sure, doofus. You can always talk to me."

He smiled, happy when she smiled back.

* * *

><p>There was obvious dichotomy about the dinner conversation. Kurt and Quinn primarily engaged with the adults while the rest talked amongst themselves.<p>

In some ways, this wasn't too surprising. Hanna was preoccupied with Caleb, as she usually was, and her friends were pretty certain they didn't want to know about whatever the two were discussing. Likewise, Spencer and Toby were mostly keeping to themselves, probably debating the latest maneuver A had instigated, as well as whatever Mona might be up to; they didn't believe she was the alpha and omega of the A Team.

Aria kept to her friends because dinner was, so far, something of a success. Her parents were actually speaking civilly with Ezra and she had the feeling that if she tried to join the conversation, that would come to an abrupt end. Instead she chatted happily with Emily, though she suspected the other girl was faking it, her true thoughts dwelling on Paige and Maya. Aria vowed that she would speak with Spencer and Hanna later about doing more to help Emily, who had a tendency to keep things to herself until they or she exploded.

Emily and Aria both found that Mike was a terrific conversation partner, even though he mostly listened. He appeared to be perpetually cheerful and a genuinely nice guy. They wanted to ask what was up with him and Kurt but knew better; it wasn't their business. Still, it _was_ cute.

Puck, when he could be bothered to take a break from shoveling food in his mouth to make conversation, mostly confined himself to Spencer and Toby. Spencer's intensity reminded him of Rachel, but without the histrionics. Well, not yet, anyway. He got on well with Toby and asked him about carpentry. That was work Puck could admire, doing something with your hands, creating something from nothing.

He knew his brain wasn't wired like the others; well, except Finn. He was smart, but not book smart, and college, though he probably could've gotten in, was more a pipe dream than a reality. The thought of carpentry, though, was appealing. It was manual labor that was artistic. It was a portable trade and it was _useful_. If he got the right training, he could probably make some decent money at it. He had done well enough in shop.

He brought up the subject with Toby, who appeared delighted to find another dude his age who was into it. He understood that Puck wanted to finish high school, but offered to introduce him to some people who would be able to help him down the line. Plus, Rosewood had an awesome vocational college if Puck wanted to get more specialized training.

Spencer jumped in and out of their conversation, extolling Toby's prowess at his trade and how far he had come in so short an amount of time. Puck thought she was kind of cool. Definitely uptight, but cool all the same. He could tell how much they really loved each other, even though they were so different. Maybe opposites _did_ attract. He and Santana hadn't worked because their personalities were too much alike, and the thing with Quinn had been weird. Until that night, they'd never thought of each other like that and they never had again.

He loved Quinn and probably always would in some way, but they never could have made it work. They might have been able to overcome their differences, but the truth was that they really hadn't been interested. In some very fucked up way, they had only gotten together because of Finn, and without Finn in the picture, they didn't know how to relate to each other. Fucking strange, man.

Kurt and Quinn were grilling Ezra and Ella about what they could expect from Rosewood High, thankful the two teachers were candid with their responses. Apparently there had been a bullying problem and, with soft undertones, confided that Aria, Emily, Hanna, and Spencer had been targeted. They didn't mention Alison, but Kurt knew a lot more was going on than what was being discussed.

Veronica and Peter were as circumspect as possible, touting the school's reputation and penchant for graduates who went on to Ivy League institutions, but otherwise being generally obtuse. Kurt got the sense that both of them, particularly Peter, _wanted _to say more, but were hesitant.

Ashley, however, had no such compunction, describing the politics as best she knew them, what dirt she had heard about certain teachers and the more notorious students, and that Kurt, Quinn, and their friends, could all but plan for a line of sycophants to submit their applications prior to the beginning of classes. She didn't mention Mona and justified that to herself by arguing that the girl probably wouldn't be allowed out of Radley anytime soon. If she was, Ashley planned on running the little bitch over with her car to see how Mona liked it.

Byron stuck mostly to talking about Hollis and encouraging all of the teens to check out the winter intercession courses. Spencer, of course, had already signed up for two. Aria was thinking about another art course while Emily was much more concerned about getting her swimming back up to snuff after her injury.

That segued into Mike and Kurt questioning her about the men's team as well as the nature of her injury and how it had occurred. Emily really had no poker face and it was apparent to the others that she was lying about how she had been hurt. Even Finn picked up on it.

As a collective force, the girls hurried conversation and the rest of the evening along by offering to help with the dishes. Kurt replied that no one but him was allowed to make use of the kitchen appliances. Santana was allergic to anything domestic. Quinn's idea of dishwashing was to leave the dirty utensils in the sink in the vain hope some cleaning fairy would happen by and take care of them. She implied that fairy was named Kurt and possessed an impeccable sense of dress.

Kurt stuck out his tongue at her.

He was concerned when Spencer offered to make another pot of coffee and wondered about a twelve-step program and sponsor which might help her with her obvious addiction.

She stuck out her tongue at him.

He volleyed with his wish that Caleb's tongue would make its presence known. Hanna demanded the same thing. Caleb blushed as everyone laughed at him.

Fifteen minutes later, Kurt had loaded the dishwasher, emptied the cartons and commanded Finn to take out the trash, and had polished the kitchen to a gleaming sheen. Ella, Veronica, and Ashley thought he was magical. Toby asked if Kurt's real name was, in fact, Dobby. Kurt feigned surprise that Toby could actually read but lauded his unerring taste in literature.

Toby stuck his tongue out at him.

Coffee was made, doled out, and Aria suggested they all retire to the conservatory, demanding Kurt play the piano for them. Kurt responded that they were in not in Casablanca and she was no Ingrid Bergman.

She stuck her tongue out at him and dragged him off.

"Don't you play the piano?" he protested.

"Not as well as you."

"You haven't even heard me play!"

"Don't try to be logical with me."

"I suppose I should take that as a general warning."

She gave a haughty sniff and pushed him toward the bench. The others followed like goslings.

"Do you think she can get him to sing?" Finn softly asked Santana, who shrugged.

"If she can, more power to her. He hasn't sung since the memorial service and he was guilt-tripped into doing it. He's still angry about it."

Finn shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't mean to pressure him."

She sighed. "It wasn't just you, Finn. We all did that. Brittany loved his voice. She recorded everything he sang for Glee and played it over and over again: in the car, in her house, during workouts. I knew that and used it. I'm not even sure I feel sorry for it. You needed him to sing and so did I. Let's face it; all of the truly emotional stuff we did in that club was mostly prompted by Kurt and Rachel. He felt like he owed her that much."

"He doesn't really talk to me about her," he whispered. "He knows how much I loved her, how much I miss her, and he says all the right brotherly stuff, but it's different for him. He didn't like her, I know, but I think ... I think he did love her."

She hesitated but at last nodded. "Their relationship was very strange and I don't think any of us will ever understand it. I know that everyone said they were pretty much the same person, just with different parts, but that wasn't true. Kurt and Rachel shared many opinions and some core values, but they were completely separate people. No, he didn't like her, but he did respect her, which is more important. She knew that; she appreciated that."

He sighed. "I know it's awful, but sometimes ... sometimes I'm glad that Sam and Rachel died together, because if one of them had survived, I don't think Kurt and me ... I don't think we could've gotten this far. I wish they had both made it, that our parents had made it, but I think if only one of them had, Kurt and I would either have drifted apart or driven Sam and Rachel away."

Santana fought the urge to bellow in his face. She _thought_ she understood what he meant, but he was Finn, and it was never easy to figure him out. "You really love him, don't you?"

"He's the most important person in my life," Finn said honestly, "and, other than Mom, he always has been." He bit his lip. "If ... if Kurt died ... I think I would have followed him."

She halted in her tracks, grabbed his arm, and forced him to face her. "Never, _ever_ say that." She blew out a breath and relented. "Or don't let him hear you say that. You can't do that to him, Finn. You can't make him the reason to go on living. That's not fair."

"I know," he said miserably, "but it's how I feel. Even if Burt and Mom and Rachel had lived, if the situations had been reversed, if Kurt had died ... San, I'm only real when I'm with him."

She flinched. It was a truth that hit a little too close to home.

"I don't know who I am without him," he continued. He shook his head. "I don't know how that happened, how it came to be, but it's true. I can't imagine life without Kurt in it, and I don't want to."

She said nothing. She knew Kurt felt much the same, but she couldn't say the words. She refused to allow or abet Finn in making his entire world revolve around Kurt. It was a temptation she fought daily. She knew, she absolutely knew, that if she would let him, Kurt would spend the rest of his life making things okay for her, for Finn, for all of them.

She'd allowed it these past months, but she couldn't let it continue. That was no way to live a life. Brittany would probably find a way to resurrect herself and kick some Lopez ass if Santana did that to her dolphin.

"Was this what you wanted to talk to me about before?"

"No," Finn said, "but can we talk about that later? In other upsetting news, Blaine called."

She saw red. It always was her favorite color.

* * *

><p>"I'll play, but only if you sing," Kurt told Aria, who balked.<p>

"I'm not prepared," she said.

"Pick a song. Chances are I'll know it."

She narrowed her eyes. He had delivered the words almost as if they were a threat and she suspected he wasn't bluffing.

"I didn't know you sang, Aria," Veronica said.

"She's really good," Spencer insisted, Hanna and Emily lending vocal support.

"We don't know where she gets it," Ella said. "Neither Byron nor I can carry a tune in a basket."

"I've only heard you sing once," Ezra said quietly. "I'd like to hear you again."

"That is not fair," Aria shot back.

He gave a mild shrug. "All is fair in love."

"And war," she replied. "Don't forget the war."

"What key do you use and what's your range?" Kurt demanded.

Aria hesitated and then told him. "But that's on a good day."

"So today will be a good day." He leaned in and whispered something.

"I can't sing that!" she protested. "Why would you think I could?"

"Because I'm awesome."

She poked him in his chest. "That has yet to be determined."

"Don't insult my man!" Hanna barked.

Aria gaped and glared at her. "You're choosing Kurt over me?"

"Yes."

"What about me?" Caleb asked.

"That has yet to be decided."

Caleb and Aria rolled their eyes.

Kurt ignored the byplay - triplay? - wandering over and plucking a guitar from its stand before placing it over Aria's head. "You play, right?"

"Why am I singing _and _playing?"

"Because it was your idea, princess. Suck it up." He turned toward his brother. "Are you up for it, Finn?"

Finn frowned but at last nodded, crossing the room and taking his place behind his drums. It would be nice to do something normal for a change. Well, as normal as a bunch of orphans jamming in their mansion _could_ be.

Kurt knew better than to ask Santana to play. She didn't play for anyone but herself and he respected that. Besides, the song had no real strings arrangement. He did vow, however, that he would one day soon find one that did. He knew that if he had tried to back out of this, she would have pressured him to perform and he planned on returning the favor. Her love of music was equal to his, even if she was more quiet about it.

"Noah?"

"Sure," the boy said, shrugging. "I'll chime in when needed."

"And I'll come in when you direct," Finn said.

Kurt nodded, sat at the bench with a flourish, cracked his knuckles and began playing a rapid succession of scales.

"Is this your guitar?" Aria asked Puck, who shook his head.

"It was Sam's."

She was horrified.

"I wouldn't have chosen it if I were uncomfortable with you using it," Kurt said, not pausing in his playing. "Sam's guitars are just gathering dust. I don't play and Noah has his own. I'd rather see them put to good use. So would Sam."

She stared down at the floor. She couldn't have argued that even if she wanted to, and now she didn't. This was perhaps one of the greatest gifts ever given to her and she wasn't going to slap Kurt or Sam in the face by refusing it. She at last nodded and Kurt began playing.

The opening chords were stark and repetitive, Kurt felt, all the more so because he was playing them on the piano rather than the electric keyboard in the original. Truthfully he was surprised Aria was at all familiar with the song; it was rather new and had yet to catch on in America, but he nonetheless felt validated. Aria obviously had exceptional taste which, since he had chosen her as a friend, merely reflected his own.

He had initially chosen the song because he knew how much Sam would have loved it. It was exactly his style, not conforming to any one genre, different in the most pleasant of ways, fresh and creative in both instrumentation and vocalization.

Aria hesitantly began strumming the guitar and he was pleased with her technique. She had intimated that she was self taught, but she played as though she had training, much like Sam had. She nervously licked her lips before entering the fray and he gave her a confident nod. She closed her eyes.

Spencer, recognizing the song as one of her new obsessions, sat up at attention, her bearing a bit straighter, anxious to see what Aria and Kurt would accomplish.

"_Like a chest of hidden gold shimmers in the depths below..._"

Ezra inhaled sharply. He hadn't been joking before: he had longed to hear Aria sing again. He had only heard her once, that night of the lock-in at school when she had been singing as Noel Kahn had accompanied her. He had been so surprised, would never have believed that _that _voice could have been contained in that tiny body, and he had fallen in love with her anew.

"..._we are, we are the treasures that they hide_."

Kurt himself had immediately fallen in love with her voice, which was much deeper than her speaking voice. She had a fat, juicy tone which he envied but nevertheless relished. He would not be averse to playing with her again. Often.

Santana watched tersely as the expressions flitted across Kurt's face. It had been a long time since she had seen him this animated and she flashed back to the handful of times he had sung with Rachel. He had been most alive then, at his most free, because as much as they derided each other, they had been peerless in New Directions.

Yes, Mercedes and Santana herself had easily matched Rachel in terms of range and power, but, as loath as she was to admit it, there had been something very special about Rachel when she sang. She truly had been charismatic. She had demanded attention, but for the right reasons. Kurt had been by far the better technical vocalist, but he had brought out the best in Rachel because he was the only male in the club capable of matching her.

Those performances had been magical and, as they had sat and watched, the other members had been very conscious of the fact they were witnessing something spectacular.

Kurt not only matched Rachel but surpassed her, forcing her to keep up. When they sang together, he had challenged her in all the best ways. She had felt compelled to soften her strident tone, to caress the notes rather than scream them. When she belted, it had been a true belt, ripped from her gut by the sheer emotion she experienced from singing with someone whom she had deeply respected, whom she had trusted.

Santana had once overheard Mercedes and Rachel arguing about how the latter treated Kurt, only to be stunned when Rachel had admitted that her singing with Finn won awards, but her performances with Kurt were an affirmation of her talent, of her _life_. For her, it had been an almost spiritual connection, and though she knew Kurt would never admit it, Santana suspected he had felt the same about Rachel.

It suddenly struck her just how much she _missed_ Rachel. A quick glance at Quinn confirmed the other girl was experiencing similar thoughts.

"_Like the sun that saves the night, bursting through a darkened sky, we are, we are soldiers of the light_."

Thoughts of Ezra danced behind her eyes as her mind replayed key moments of their relationship. She really did love him and knew he loved her. Despite what her parents thought, he had never taken advantage of her. She had never been the naive little girl they insisted she was. Yes, she was sometimes meek and docile, but that shouldn't be equated with mindlessness. She had always known her own thoughts and feelings, though she had often kept them to herself.

Perhaps that's why, for as long as she could remember, she had wanted to be a novelist. The stories of others had always captured her interest far more than her own life. Writing and singing had allowed her to travel the realms of her own mind while still remaining grounded in reality.

Then she had met Ezra and reality as she had known it had flown right out of the window. She hadn't minded too much at the time, finding reality incredibly overrated.

Suddenly there were so many things about which she no longer cared. She was still angry at her father for his affair with that bimbo, but that was between her parents. No, she had become more upset that he had actively sought to make his daughter complicit in his own immorality. Asking to keep it secret from her mother had been tantamount to a slap across the face. That singular action had caused the scales to fall from her eyes.

She still loved him, was grateful he was her father, but she also realized that he was a man, and a weak one at that. She couldn't fault him for that; everyone was weak in some manner, and those people were preyed upon by the Alisons of the world, who thought nothing about torpedoing lives for the sheer pleasure of it.

Her guilt for Alison had likewise been diminished after Ezra. She had loved her in the way only teenage girls could love each other, but she had never been blind to her. She instead was angry at herself for checking her backbone at the door where Alison was concerned. That had been _her_ weakness and Alison had exploited it. Once she had realized that, all of Alison's hurtful comments to Hanna roared in her head, as did the way Alison had shamelessly teased Emily for the sake of it.

Too late Aria had realized she had expected Spencer to take the lead in rebelling against Alison's tyranny, only to realize Spencer was also weak. It wasn't an inherent weakness, however, but had been bred in to her, mostly by Melissa. Spencer was one of the strongest people she had ever known, but when faced with another predator, Spencer rolled over and bared her belly.

Most of Aria's regrets and self-recriminations revolved around her own inaction. She knew she was strong, that she had convictions, but her parents' crumbling marriage and her brother's constant need for validation and attention had stymied her potential. Alison had appeared in her life at a crucial time and Aria had allowed herself to be led because it was easier to have someone else to make all the decisions.

The problem was that it didn't absolve her of her mistakes, for they were ultimately of her own creation. She was partially responsible for the creation of Alison and her vindictive schemes and machinations. Granted, Alison had been a target herself and was thus owed compassion, but Alison had lashed out at everyone when threatened, friend and foe alike.

She missed Alison and probably always would, but there was also incredible relief at being out from under her thumb. They were still under attack, but without Alison as their head, she and the others were at least able to present a unified front when it truly mattered.

Alison's absence had encouraged Aria to find herself again, and she had also found Ezra. Their relationship wasn't perfect - no one's was - and they had their secrets they stubbornly refused to share, but she loved him and he her. They had at least been able to acknowledge that, which made facing all the rest much easier to bear.

She opened her eyes and threw him a dazzling smile. Kurt nodded and Finn's steady and repetitive percussion then entered the melee.

"_And we will glow_."

Ezra beamed back at her as Ashley, Veronica and Peter raised their brows.

How in the hell had they missed _this_?

Ella's face betrayed no emotion because she had no idea what she was feeling. She wanted to scold her daughter for making this public, even amongst the privacy of this small circle, but she didn't have the heart. No matter what she thought of it, no matter her fears or worries, Aria loved this man. As much as she didn't want to acknowledge it, she knew Ezra loved her daughter.

Yes, it was completely inappropriate and definitely illegal, but she knew keeping them apart wouldn't work. Somehow, against all odds, they had managed to stay together for over a year, which was an incredibly long time for the average relationship between people of Aria's age. They'd had their fights and silences, but had always found their way back to each other. Ella suspected that would always be the case.

If Aria was to end her relationship with Ezra, one of them would have to do it. Outside forces really had no chance. Try as she might, she couldn't help but respect them for it.

Byron barely managed to swallow his bile. His daughter's relationship with that ... man ... was noxious to him, but fighting it had gotten him nowhere except further alienated from his family. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, Ella liked Ezra. Oh, she might not have liked him for her _daughter_, but she liked him as a person, and part of her was rooting for their relationship.

Mike, as much as he decried his sister and everything she stood for, loved her fiercely. There were no lengths to which he wouldn't go to protect her, though Aria could be far more frightening when in defense of her family.

Byron suspected one of his major problems with Ezra was just how happy he made Aria. He wasn't blind to it; even he could see how much they loved one another and he wasn't so foolish as to view it as anything other than love. Ezra loved his daughter and was willing to fight for her, which is something he suspected most boys Aria's age would not do.

He knew he had no room to judge. His affair with Meredith had destroyed his marriage and, in asking Aria to keep it a secret, he had betrayed his daughter on a fundamental level. He couldn't very well ask her to keep his perfidy confidential and then claim that she was too immature for a relationship with an older man. His hypocrisy did not sit well with him.

And that smile. That radiant smile which had once shined only for him was now for another man. He was hurt and jealous and didn't want to admit that Aria had, without his permission, become a woman, her own person with her own thoughts and feelings. He no longer hung the moon. Instead, he had been the one to send it crashing down to earth.

He didn't like Ezra and never would. It was totally irrational and he didn't care. He still believed Ezra would end up destroying Aria but knew he was helpless to stop it. The more he interfered, the more she resented him. The harder he pressed, the harder she fought. Eventually, she would make a choice, one he wouldn't like, one he had pushed her into making, and then he would have no one but himself to blame.

After all he had done, if he didn't like the way his little kingdom had turned out, he had only himself to thank.

So he dismissed it and listened to his daughter sing her heart out, even if it was for Ezra Fitz.

"_Oh, oh, oh_."

Aria sang each syllable with melisma in a number of keys, displaying the dexterity of her voice even if the range wasn't as impressive as that of Kurt or Santana.

She kept her eyes on Ezra the entire time, her confidence growing with each measure.

"_So let them build their righteous tower_ ..."

Ella and Byron couldn't help but think the lyric referenced them particularly and were somewhat mortified by it, wondering if Kurt had chosen it purposefully. He had made it clear, though not exactly in words, that he supported the relationship between their daughter and his cousin. Whatever they thought of it, they were guests in his home.

Also they didn't want to discourage Aria's new friendship. All of the parents present had been worried that the relationship amongst their daughters had grown far too insular, breeding secrets and mistrust of anyone outside their small circle. If they had said anything against Kurt, their children would have jumped on the opportunity to decry them and Ella wasn't sure that Ashley wouldn't come down on Kurt's side.

"... _our blazing hearts will tear it down_."

If that wasn't a declaration, Ella didn't know what was. She wasn't even surprised. It was nothing Aria hadn't made clear before. Still ... that Aria was willing to say - sing - it here and now, in front of not only her parents and friends, but those friends' parents, the relationship was even deeper than she had suspected.

It was a rude awakening, albeit a quiet one. Aria was now of the age in which she could legally withdraw herself from school. She would easily pass her GED and could find a job that would pay for small essentials; Ezra would foot the bill and most likely allow her to live with him.

If he didn't, Ashley certainly would. The woman had a hard and brittle exterior but, like her daughter, was a romantic at heart and definitely a soft touch. It was why she had been so blindsided by the divorce. She truly hadn't seen it coming. The forbidden nature of Aria and Ezra's relationship would appeal to Ashley far more than any moralistic priggishness.

If they set the cops on Ezra, Aria would only resent them more and patiently wait until her birthday before leaving the house for good.

She and Byron exchanged the look that only people who had been married for two decades could understand. As much as they didn't like it, they were going to have to suck it up and accept the relationship, even if only on a surface level, lest they lose their daughter completely.

And, if she was being honest, which was difficult for her even in her own most private thoughts, she liked Ezra. He was a good man. Emotionally immature, yes; in fact, Aria was more wise in that regard than he. He treated Aria well and, while they had their fights, they always reconciled. The more they allowed Aria and Ezra to believe it was them against the world, the harder they would fight to stay together. Perhaps removing the forbidden aspect would lessen the stranglehold Ezra and Aria had on each other.

"_We are, we are the soldiers of the light and we will glow. Oh, oh, oh_."

Finn's percussion at once became more persistent as Puck came slamming in with his electric chords. From the corner of her eye, Aria saw Kurt open his mouth and that's when she knew she could nail this. She had seen the videos of him singing and had suspicions of his capability, knowing he could supply whatever she might be lacking.

She drew in a deep breath and let it settle in her chest, feeling her diaphragm stretch as she prepared to belt.

"_We are fire! We are fire!_"

Mouths fell open after Kurt opened his.

He effortlessly matched Aria's belts, singing precisely one octave above where she was currently singing, but he was restraining himself just enough so that he didn't overpower her. Instead, as she had thought, he filled in all of her missing notes, making her own tone richer, warmer, and impossibly fuller.

Deciding to push the envelope even further, Aria ended each note of the measure with a vocal crack reminiscent of the original singer, Ella Henderson. Again Kurt matched her, making them sound ethereal, creating harmonics that shouldn't have been possible outside of a studio.

"The fuck?" Hanna breathed.

"_And our love will burn, the flame will never die_," Kurt and Aria sang in perfect sync. "_We are brighter, we are brighter!_"

She couldn't believe how much his mere presence had forced her to up her game. She had never sounded this good before and wondered if she could possibly replicate it in his absence.

"_Let's show 'em how we light up tonight. We will glow. Oh, oh, oh_."

Kurt surprised her once more by inverting the harmony, utilizing his lower register to sing now an octave beneath her, sending shivers up her spine.

And suddenly it was no longer about her and Ezra, but Kurt and Sam. She saw his tears threatening but somehow doubted he would surrender. She didn't know him well, but sensed he wasn't one who enjoyed public displays of mourning, no matter how well earned or deserved.

Byron had tears in his eyes, ashamed that he'd had no idea just how gifted his daughter was. He couldn't recall ever hearing her like this before and wondered if she had been hiding herself or that he simply hadn't been listening. Either thought was wounding.

Ella stared at her eldest child as though seeing her for the first time.

"Wow," Ashley murmured, shaking her head in incredulity.

"I had no idea she could sing like that," Spencer whispered.

"I had no idea she could sing at all!" Toby hissed. "Jesus."

Emily just basked, letting the emotion of the song carry her away.

Aria sang the first verse again, once again solo, before repeating the chorus, when Kurt took up the mantle once more.

Caleb stared at Kurt with a hungry look which turned Hanna on while simultaneously repelling Mike. Caleb could play the guitar, probably better than Aria, and could sing, but not like this. This was another league entirely.

As the bridge approached, Aria could tell Kurt was getting ready to provide the backing vocals and decided to turn the tables. The bridge was meant to be sung without accompaniment and she was about to see just what Kurt could really do, whether or not he realized it or cared.

She, Finn, Puck, and Kurt simultaneously halted their playing.

"_We are fire, we shoot our flame up high_," he sang, his voice cracking in an achingly gorgeous deliberate manner on the last word. His delivery was simple, almost brittle, but not broken, his voice echoing around them like a ricochet. It was stark and elegant and devastating.

He and Sam had been fire, their flame illuminating everything around them. When they had come together, it had, in a very real way, set the final piece in place. It was Kurt and Sam, Finn and Rachel, Brittany and Santana, and Mike and Tina - as it was always meant to be.

And then it no longer was.

"_They see us burn across a thousand miles_."

There had been no warning, no reason, no goodbye.

The precious flame they had been quietly nurturing for more than a year suddenly became nothing more than a blazing airplane cartwheeling toward the earth. Immediate. Final.

Kurt hated death. It had become an intimate presence in his life when he was six years old and it had never abandoned him. Death was his constant. It surrounded him, mocked him, but never claimed him. Instead it took everyone he loved.

It was vicious and cruel.

People wanted to believe that death was a construct, an allegedly necessary evil, Nature's way of resetting the scales, but Kurt knew better. Death was real and it was cold. It was ironic. Those who died felt no pain, no sense of loss. No, it was those left behind and forced to deal with its ramifications who felt the cacophony of emotions it engendered.

Death existed to spread pain and suffering. It was evil.

If there was one supernatural agent in which Kurt fervently believed, it was Death.

He _hated_ Death.

"_We are brighter, the flame will never die_."

And it wouldn't, because he wouldn't let it. Sam would never truly die as long as there existed someone to remember him. It was a torch whose burden Kurt would gladly bear, because it wasn't a burden at all. Sam had been a gift, his precious gift that he had never truly believed would be his.

But Sam had been his and his alone. Sam had been everything and he had been everything to Sam. Sam had been his home, his safe harbor, the light guiding him back when he allowed himself to get lost. Steady and present, always, and he still was.

Because Kurt still needed him.

He always would.

"_Let's show 'em how we light up tonight._"

They had shown them all. Rachel, who had thought they were too different to last; Mercedes, who had been petty and jealous before finally coming around, though her relationship with Kurt had never truly recovered; Finn, who had thought he could interfere; Blaine, who had tried to destroy them; Karofsky, who had helped in that failed endeavor.

In the end, Kurt and Sam had triumphed and that could never be erased, not even by Death. They had loved and known what is was to be loved, unselfish and pure, to be loved without reserve and without restraint. Their love had been quiet and true, faithful and everlasting. It would be the measure against which Kurt would hold every other relationship, though he couldn't presently ever imagine wanting anyone but Sam.

He closed his eyes and willed back the tears. And then he smiled.

"_Oh, you and I were soldiers of light_."

He sensed Aria standing now before him, concern marring her lovely features.

He opened his eyes, gave a short nod, and the instrumentation began anew.

"_We will glow!_" Kurt and Aria belted, his voice soaring above hers as she kept to the baseline, marveling at his seamless shifts in key. His was a voice with whom no one could compete.

It was truth and it was pain and it was joy and it was unbearable sorrow.

It was human. His was the voice of humanity itself.

"_Oh, oh, oh!_"

It was a lamentation.

"_And we will glow!_"

He started high and quickly downshifted until he was matching her tone for tone, their voice no long even distinguishable.

"_Oh, oh, oh!_"

Lamentation became exaltation.

The music stopped.

"_And we will glow_."


	5. A is for Assignation

They all chatted and consumed coffee for another hour before Kurt began dropping subtle hints that it was time for their impromptu dinner party to end. He and Quinn escorted their new friends and their parents to the door, exchanging phone numbers and setting a breakfast date for Saturday at The Brew, the local coffeehouse where Emily worked.

Aria thanked Kurt for singing with her and shyly expressed her hope it was only the first of many duets. He smiled and admitted he felt the same. She left with her parents, as did the other girls, and finally only Ezra stood in the foyer. Quinn politely excused herself and left the cousins to themselves.

Ezra gave Kurt a long searching look. "How are you really?"

"My father, the love of my life, and some of my closest friends are dead." Kurt forced a smile. "I'm horrible."

Ezra grimaced. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked quietly.

Christ, he wanted to be able to do _something_ for his cousin. Granted, Kurt was more responsible than most people twice his age, but these were onuses he shouldn't have to bear. He shouldn't have had to emancipate himself, parent his brother, and run a household for his orphaned friends.

Kurt sighed, wrapping his arms around himself. "Not really, but I appreciate you asking." He bit his lip and then shook his head. "I'll get through this, Ezra, but you know me; it has to be on my own terms and in my own time. When I'm ready, I'll ask. Until then, just knowing you're here is enough."

Ezra reached forward and gently wrapped his arms around Kurt, holding him close and slowly rocking them. "I'll always be here for you. The circumstances are awful, but I'm glad you're here." His voice broke. "I've really missed you, Kurty."

Kurt stiffened. "Don't call me that, please," he whispered. "That was Brittany's nickname for me."

Ezra blinked back tears. He knew how special Brittany had been to Kurt, that her loss was affecting him just as keenly as that of Sam and Burt. He pulled back and pressed his forehead against Kurt's own.

"You should talk with Santana about Brittany."

Kurt closed his eyes. "No. Neither one of us is ready for that yet, if ever."

Ezra said nothing. From everything Kurt had told him, no matter how much he had loved Sam, Brittany had been, in a very real way, something akin to a life partner for him. Their relationship in no way lessened what she'd had with Santana, but Brittany and Kurt had been connected on a fundamental level.

He wished he could have met her. He remembered with fondness the one time he had met Artie Abrams and Tina Cohen-Chang, Kurt's childhood friends. Ezra himself had been a teenager at that time and in his rebellious phase, but he had been touched by the closeness the three had enjoyed. He'd never had friends like that; he doubted he ever would. All he could think of is how Aria would react if she lost Spencer, Emily, or Hanna.

For Kurt to have lost Artie and Tina, and Brittany and Sam, plus his father and his other friends, was a tragedy on a level almost impossible to imagine.

But he _did_ know Kurt and knew his cousin would get through this. He would force himself in order to care for Finn and the others. Perhaps that was best. Taking care of them would provide him focus, an avenue for his grief. Kurt was always at his best when in Protective Mode.

"You'll call me if you need me?" Ezra pressed.

This time, Kurt's smile was genuine. "I promise." He shrugged. "Besides, we'll be seeing each other at school and you're welcome here any time."

Ezra drew him into another embrace, his lips soft against Kurt's ear. "I love you so much, kiddo."

Tears pricked at Kurt's eyes. It was the last thing his father had told him. It was the last thing Sam had told him. It was the last thing he had told both of him. It was the last thing he had told his mother those many years ago. He honestly thought he'd never hear those words again, that he'd even want to hear them.

"I love you, too, Ez."

Ezra withdrew, placing a gentle kiss on Kurt's cheek and showed himself out, shutting the door behind him after throwing Kurt one final goodbye. Kurt locked the door behind him.

As he turned out the lights and headed toward the stairs, he withdrew his phone and sent a text.

_Check._

* * *

><p>Quinn and Santana had convened in the former's room. Quinn was busily unpacking as Santana listlessly picked through the various boxes, steadfastly ignoring pictures of the Cheerios, the Glee Club, some old pompoms, and a yearbook.<p>

"What did you think?" she asked.

Quinn paused in folding a sweater set. "They're nice. I like them." She paused. "They're also lying."

Santana nodded, pleased that she wasn't the only one who was suspicious. She and Quinn would never be best friends, but they had similar minds. They understood teenage girls and pack mentality.

"Do we need to worry?"

"Probably, yes." She sat on the bed and sighed. "You saw Kurt with them."

Santana said nothing. Words weren't required.

"He's going to want to involve them in our lives because of Ezra and because he's lonely. He'll deny that he sees them as replacements for the others, which I do believe. No one could replace them and he knows that." She frowned. "I also think he plans on using them to distract us."

"Thank god," Santana muttered. "I agree. This whole move is sketchy. Granted, I sure as hell don't want to be in Lima anymore; the whole town is just a giant reminder of what we lost." She shook her head. "But I don't believe that he chose Rosewood just for some cousin whom he hasn't seen since he was a kid."

Quinn nodded. "Still, you saw him with Ezra. The love there is very real. Ezra is the only family he has left save his grandmother, and it's not like Finn was going to move to the south of France."

Santana snorted. "He can barely speak English." She looked away. "I'm worried about him. More than I am for Kurt, actually."

Quinn eyed her.

Santana shrugged. "Kurt will deal. He's Kurt and that's what he does. Finn ... "

Quinn nodded before dropping her head. "A therapist is a move in the right direction and I'm glad Finn realizes that he needs help, that he can't depend on only Kurt." She blinked away the tears, cleared her throat, and began refolding the already perfectly folded sweater.

"He said Blaine called."

Quinn's hands froze in midair and began shaking. She looked up, eyes wide with outrage.

Santana held up a hand. "I know and I agree. We're totally on the same page where that little asshole is concerned. The last thing Kurt needs is a refugee from Fraggle Rock showing up here and trying to worm his way back into his life." She smirked. "And that's where Finn comes in."

The corners of Quinn's mouth quirked up. "This time, I'm not stopping him."

Santana laughed. "Neither will I. It's time for him to reap what he's sown."

Quinn nodded. "And Puck?"

Santana startled. She didn't know why she was surprised. If anyone knew Puck as well as she, it was Quinn. "You've noticed it too."

Quinn nodded. "It's about more than just Grace, though that's certainly enough. We all know he adored her." She bit her lip. "But this is beyond that and there's a reason why he's only reached out to Kurt. Whatever this is, only Kurt knows."

"That's what I don't get," Santana said. "They were never close. They weren't even friends. Sure, they'd put the past behind them, which was pretty amazing considering all the shit Puck put him through, but this is serious." She frowned. "I don't like it. I don't like the way Puck looks at him."

"As though Kurt is his whole world now?" Quinn whispered. "The looks he gives to Mike? Puck isn't even trying to hide his jealousy. Usually he's a little more circumspect than this; not much, but more than this."

"What do you think it is?"

Quinn shrugged. "I honestly have no idea. At first I thought it was about Mercedes - you know they had been getting closer - but I don't think it's her. I think she might have known whatever it is Kurt knows."

Santana slowly nodded. "So now that Mercedes is gone, Kurt is the only one in on the big secret."

"I also think he's trying to replace Grace with Kurt."

Santana gave an exaggerated blink. "Okay," she said, "yeah, that makes sense. Puck's never thought much about himself, but he always prided himself on being a good brother, which he was. He used to act like that with Finn, too, back before ... "

Quinn looked away as Santana silently cursed herself. That was a wound no one needed to open.

"It would explain a lot about his behavior," Quinn said, "especially where Mike is concerned. He's worried about Kurt and sees Mike as a predator."

"And not a romantic rival?"

Quinn shook her head. "No. He's worried Mike could take Kurt from him. I don't think he's interested in Kurt romantically, but Puck has always considered himself a protector and now he has someone new to defend."

"What worries me is how long Kurt will put up with it," Santana said. "Actually, with how long he's going to put up with many things. It's like all of this is resting on tenterhooks and it will be Kurt who will knock them down. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells the moment I get out of bed in the morning."

Quinn dropped the sweater on the floor and came to sit next to the other girl. "Look, our past aside, I'm not going anywhere, San. You can count me. I hope you know that."

"Likewise."

Quinn laid her hand on top of Santana's own. "How are you coping?"

Santana opened her mouth and, without her consent, a sob broke free. "I'm not," she croaked as tears began falling from her eyes. "She's gone, Q. How can she be gone?" Her shoulders heaved with emotion too long suppressed. "How could she leave me all alone?"

Quinn pressed her lips tightly together to stave off her own cries as she gathered Santana into her arms.

* * *

><p>Kurt dimly registered the sound of crying coming from the room next door. He found it very depressing that he couldn't even posit to whom the tears belonged. He had seen Santana in the room earlier, but it could have been Mike, Noah, or Finn for all he knew.<p>

Their dynamic was so strange now. They were no longer just classmates or teammates or friends or best friends. They were a family, with all of the complicated interpersonal relationships therein.

Finn was his brother and he loved the boy with every fiber of his being, but Quinn felt more like a sibling than Finn ever had. Santana was becoming as essential to him as Brittany had been and, while part of him desperately wanted to cling to her and keep her close, he couldn't help but feel as though it was somehow a betrayal of Brittany and their relationship.

Noah was ... very confusing. He had brotherly feelings for the other boy, but their prior relationship, though firmly in the past, was not necessarily at rest. It was still hard for him to trust Noah even though he absolutely believed Noah would cut off his own arm before ever hurting him again. Yet there were moments, particularly when Noah was angry or upset, that Kurt was afraid to be alone with him.

Mike was even more confusing. Their relationship - whatever that was, and neither of them were able to qualify it - was peculiar. They had never been particularly close, mostly friendly due to their respective relationships with Tina, but now they were ...

What _were_ they? Friends, certainly, but it was more. They slept together more nights than they did apart. They had never been intimate - well, they had never had _sex_ - but there was something between them that hadn't previously existed. They were so much more _aware_ of each other now.

There were intimate, Kurt supposed. He knew things about Mike he knew the other boy hadn't told anyone, even Matt. After the crash, Matt had immediately invited Mike to come and live with him and his parents, but Mike had declined in favor of staying with Kurt.

And no one doubted it was Kurt with whom Mike wished to stay. He had never been close with Quinn or Santana, and his friendships with Finn and Noah were superficial.

Kurt had been confused by it, but had never questioned it. Maybe he should have. Maybe he didn't want to know the answer. Maybe he was using Mike to remember Tina. Maybe he was using Mike as a buffer between himself and Finn and Noah.

Or maybe both he and Mike remembered the end of sophomore year when they had been locked together in a closet by Brittany during a party at Rachel's house. Maybe they remembered how closely together they had been standing. Maybe Mike remembered Kurt's shaking arms around his neck and maybe Kurt remembered Mike's large hand nestled in the small of his back.

Maybe they wondered what would have happened if Rachel hadn't opened the door, much to Brittany's loud and vociferous displeasure.

Maybe they knew what would have happened if Kurt hadn't begun dating Blaine that summer as Mike and Tina had found themselves alone and isolated at that strange camp.

Kurt bit his lip.

He couldn't deny that he was attracted to Mike. He'd always thought Mike was gorgeous and it was highly probable Mike was equally as enamored.

But they both knew that it was too soon, that it would be a rebound that would destroy whatever fledgling friendship they currently enjoyed. Selfishly, Kurt was more interested in the friendship. He liked Mike, genuinely liked him as a person. He didn't want to lose him. They'd both lost enough.

Still ... they shared a bed almost every night. They slept almost on top of each other, though they had never touched. There were nights they would just lie there and stare into each other's eyes, holding entire conversations. The fact that they were usually only clad in boxer shorts, however, was troubling.

Kurt knew Mike's body now, every contour, every perfect muscle, and it was getting harder and harder to stop himself from reaching out and placing a hand on Mike's strong chest. Knowing that Mike wouldn't say no was really the only deterrent. Kurt knew he had to say no for them both. He wouldn't start something he couldn't finish, and though Mike's body, his physical closeness, the comfort he provided was almost stultifying, in his heart of hearts he only wanted Sam. Mike only wanted Tina.

They both knew that but also knew they needed to talk, that they would actually have to use words. It was a daunting prospect neither were eager to explore. Perhaps that's why he had flirted so heavily with Peter and Caleb tonight; not they weren't very handsome.

His infatuation with Peter was little more than playful flirting; the fact that it drove Spencer to near apoplexy was just a bonus. Caleb ... well, Caleb reminded him a lot of Sam, actually. They couldn't have looked more different, but the thoughtful kindness and gentleness of Caleb was a sharp reminder of what he had lost. He had only flirted with Caleb because he had Hanna's tacit permission; Caleb flirting _back_ had never been part of the plan. He made a vow not to play such a dangerous game again.

He glanced at his watch and sighed. It was too late to call Olivia. Oh, he knew that she would have welcomed it; he had, in fact, been dodging her calls ever since he left Washington. He missed her dreadfully. She was the only one who ever looked at him as though he wasn't about to fall apart, as though she wasn't expecting it at any moment.

Her apartment had been his sanctuary after the first two weeks. He'd had to exit the Vice Presidential residence almost immediately so his father's replacement could move in. That had been no big loss. He'd only been in the house a handful of months and it had always felt transitory. It had never been home. Still, he had been stung that he'd been asked to leave before his father was barely in the ground.

Olivia had taken care of everything and given an earful to the President. It hadn't really been his fault and there were protocols in place, but it could have been handled in a more sensitive manner. The others had returned to Lima to pack up what remained of their lives and Kurt had made arrangements for Finn to board at the school until they were ready to leave town. Meanwhile, he had stayed with Olivia and had been dangerously close to never wanting to leave.

His friendship with her was like nothing he had ever experienced. She was an adult and treated him as a peer, not a child playing a role. They could talk about anything and everything, and no subject was taboo. They could talk politics, foreign policy, his ideas for collegiate and graduate study, sex. There was a freedom in their relationship that, to him, was fascinating and refreshing and so very welcome. It had been that way with them since their first meeting.

Their conversations were satisfying and their silences companionable. It was almost eerie how in sync they were with each other.

He should call. He knew she was worried. He knew she could show up any day to storm the house and demand he explain himself. He just didn't have it in him to tell her he was fine. She would see right through it. Instead he texted and promised to call the following day.

The response was immediate: _This is as good as an oral contract. Follow the terms or I'll prosecute you to the fullest extent of my wrath._

He chuckled and powered down his phone, plugging it in to recharge. He changed out of his clothes and into a set of pajamas Carole had gotten him last Christmas, his shoulders tensing when he heard a soft knock.

He couldn't deal with Mike tonight. He couldn't feel those feelings right now.

The door slowly opened and Finn stuck his head inside.

"Hey."

"Hey," Kurt said warmly. "Are you okay?"

Finn bit his lip, brow furrowed. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Kurt was surprised but covered it well. "Sure, come on in."

Finn nervously entered as Kurt stood and turned down the bed.

"What's up?" Kurt asked.

"I was talking to Santana earlier."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "That's never a good way to begin a conversation."

Finn pursed his lips. Kurt patted his bed and Finn crossed the room and laid down.

"She's really smart," he continued, "and she knew how I was feeling about some stuff without me having to tell her."

"Santana is surprisingly emotionally intuitive," Kurt agreed.

"Yeah," Finn said absently. "Anyway, I realized some things and I wanted to talk to you about them and not her, if that's okay."

Kurt frowned. "Of course it is. You know you can tell me anything, Finn."

Finn turned on his side and looked into his brother's eyes. "Even if it's about you?" he whispered.

Kurt nodded. "Even then."

Finn blew out a breath. "Okay, um, well, I'm really confused. About you."

"What about me?" Kurt asked patiently.

"About my feelings for you," Finn mumbled.

Kurt's heart almost stopped. Oh, no. Not this and not now. Not after everything they'd had to get over to get to this point. Goddamn it. He repressed a sigh. He knew he couldn't let this go, couldn't ignore it. Finn was being very brave and Kurt knew if he made light of this, Finn would never trust him with anything real ever again.

"What feelings are those?" he asked with faux cheer.

"That's the problem," Finn said. "I don't really know." He sighed. "It all used to be so clear, you know? You were Kurt and I was Finn and we were friends. Then I acted like a huge dick and hurt you really badly. Then we were brothers and that's really awesome."

"It is," Kurt cautiously agreed. "So what's wrong?"

"I don't ... I'm afraid ... "

"Finn," Kurt said gently, "you can tell me anything, okay? I'm not going to get angry. I'm not going to yell at you. I'm not going to make you leave. You and me are forever, all right? That's never going to change. I may get confused and ask you to explain things, but that doesn't mean that I don't love you."

Finn closed his eyes. "When you say that ... I feel ... "

"What do you feel?" Kurt coaxed.

Finn drew in a deep breath. "Santana said I can't make this all about you, that I can't want to live just for you. I can't let you fix everything for me. I have to do that for myself and I know she's right."

"Okay," Kurt said slowly.

Finn opened his eyes. "Sometimes when you hug me, I want you to do ... more."

"Like what?" Kurt carefully asked.

"Like kiss me," Finn whispered, cheeks stained red and averting his eyes. "Like touch me." He swallowed heavily. "And I don't know if it's because it's you and I love you and I trust you more than anyone else in the world, or if it's because I miss Rachel, or I miss Mom and Dad, or ... or ..."

Tears began rolling down his cheeks.

"Well," Kurt began, "I think there's many things it could be. You've always been a very physical person, Finn, though not with me. It's possible you just want comfort and you want it from me because I understand better than most what you're going through."

Finn closed his eyes again, this time in mortification. "And what if ... what if ... I had some of these feelings before Mom and Dad got married? What if I had them that night in the basement and I got more scared than I've ever been in my whole life? What if I pushed you away so I wouldn't hurt you more?"

Kurt was stunned. "More than what?"

"I don't know what I am!" Finn exclaimed, covering his face with his hands. "I don't know what these feelings are or why they're back now. All I know is that ... hurting you that night was the worst thing I've ever done in my life and it's not just guilt. It's ... it's anger. I'm mad at me and not just because I said that ... that _word_." He sniffled. "I'm mad because I opened my mouth and said stuff I didn't mean because I was afraid to say what I really felt."

"Which was what?"

"You're my best friend, Kurt. You always have been. Not Puck. Not Quinn. Not Rachel. You. And those months when it was just me and you hanging out, you became ... everything to me. You were the person I wanted to see most every day. You were the only one I wanted to study with or talk on the phone with or text with or sing with. Just you. I wanted to spend all my time with you.

"And that never stopped. Not after the fight or the wedding or Rachel. And it wasn't just about spending time with you and it wasn't just because you were nice and liked me and listened to what I had to say. It was because you sang like you sing and you looked like you look and you are who you _are_.

"That day you put your hand on my shoulder, I _felt_ it. I felt whatever it is that's between us and it shocked me and it _scared_ me and the worst feeling in the world was when you took your hand away."

"Oh, Finn," Kurt whispered.

"And I know it's not right and it's not fair. I know how much you love Sam and he was the only man good enough for you. I saw that. I knew that. Not Blaine. Certainly not me. Sam was worthy of you, so I wasn't jealous, not like I was when you were with Blaine. I _hate_ Blaine."

"Yeah, well, you're in good company there," Kurt muttered.

"He wanted to change you. Sam just loved you. He loved you the way I couldn't. The way I wanted to." He sighed. "But I don't know what it means. I don't think I'm gay. I loved Rachel. I loved having sex with Rachel. But even when she and I were together, a lot of times I wondered what it would be like if it was you and me, not me and her and not you and Sam.

"I can't just be straight, right? I mean, I couldn't have these feelings for you if I was. Because these feelings were way before the accident, so it can't just be that."

Kurt slowly exhaled. "I think ... I think that we're all confused and hurting and wondering what we're supposed to do now. I know you loved Rachel, Finn, and she loved you, so I never want you to think that you were using her or that these feelings, whatever they are, are a betrayal of that love, okay? Are you hearing me?"

Finn nodded.

"Now, as for where I come into all of this, I have to admit that I am ... very surprised you ever had these feelings for me. I'm not angry and I'm not upset with you. I can only imagine that this has been tearing you up for a while and I'm very glad you felt you could discuss this with me. I want you to know, to understand, that I will always listen to you, Finn. I will always be here for you. These feelings don't change that, all right?"

"I don't know why you're so good to me," Finn mumbled. "I don't deserve it."

"That's enough," Kurt said sharply. "That was done and over with years ago. You made your amends and I forgave you. Now it's time to forgive yourself. Yes, you hurt me, but I've hurt you too, Finn, and you've forgiven me. We'll probably hurt each other in the future, but never quite that badly. Still, we're human and humans have arguments. We're going to argue sometimes, but that doesn't mean that I love you any less."

Finn shook his head in frustration. "Look, Kurt, I love you too, okay, and I really appreciate everything you're saying, but I don't think you're getting this or I'm not explaining myself well. I'm not talking about Sweet Valley High love here. I used to jack off to you, okay? I pictured us together, naked, and we weren't doing brother stuff. And it didn't stop after the wedding."

Kurt flushed. "I ... I would be lying if I said I never thought that way about you, even after I started dating Sam."

Finn reared back in shock. "Really?"

Kurt nodded, almost against his will. "Look, sweetheart, this thing between us, this connection we have, you feel it too, right?"

"All the time," Finn whispered. "When something good happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When something bad happens, you're the one I want to run to. You're the one I want to make proud of me. You're the one ... "

"You're all of those things to me too, Finn." Kurt held up his hands and Finn pressed his own palms against them. Slowly, their fingers interlocked. Finn shuddered at the contact.

"I think it's always going to be there, Finn," Kurt said, "and all we can do is decide how we're going to react to it."

"Did Sam know? That you still kind of thought those things about me?"

Kurt nodded. "I told him everything, Finn."

"I told Rachel," Finn admitted.

Kurt couldn't even _imagine_ that conversation. "Sam understood. He still had some unresolved feelings for Quinn. She was his first love."

"Was I yours?"

Kurt was silent for a very long time. "Yes," he finally admitted.

"And I ruined it," Finn spat.

"Finn ... "

"It's true! I ruin everything I touch! Quinn. Puck. That ... whatever ... with Santana. Us. It's my fault Rachel's dead!"

"Don't you dare," Kurt snarled. "Don't you dare make the crash about you. It is _not_ your fault Rachel died, Finn, anymore than it's my fault Sam died, and I swear to god that if you really think that, I will beat you into a coma."

Finn's eyes widened with horror and he shook his head frantically. "I didn't mean it, not like that! Sam didn't die because of you! You were everything to each other, you were _perfect_ ... "

"We weren't," Kurt said shortly, "and if you believe that, I'm here to disabuse you of that notion. Sam and I were not perfect, Finn, and we weren't perfect together. We loved each other, absolutely. I wanted to marry him. I wanted a family with him. I will mourn him every day for the rest of my life. But we weren't perfect. No one is."

Finn stared as though he couldn't comprehend the words.

"Sam and I had our fights, Finn. We just didn't do it in public. We had our disagreements and our silences just like any other couple. He got under my skin more than anyone ever has and I know I pushed him to his limits on more than one occasion. We weren't perfect. We worked very hard for our relationship. We forced ourselves to talk to each other, to be completely honest, and honesty can sometimes be a very difficult thing to hear and live with, but we did it because we couldn't have it any other way. Are we clear on this?"

Finn nodded dumbly.

"Good." Kurt closed his eyes and forced his breathing under control. "As far as you and I are concerned, like I said earlier, all we can do is control how we're going to deal with it. I am physically very attracted to you. I always will be. I can't control that, but I can control what I do about it and you're going to have to do the same."

"But ... "

"Let me finish. Finn, you have to realize that if we ever tried ... we could never go back. We could never be brothers again. Do you want to lose that? Because I don't."

"I don't either," Finn sighed, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling as he fisted his hair.

"We're both hurt," Kurt continued, "and we're both grieving. We have five insanely attractive teenagers living under one roof with no real adult supervision. Things like this are going to happen."

"Like you and Mike?" Finn asked savagely.

"Mike and I aren't the issue here," Kurt said evenly, "and my relationship with him - which is only _friendship_ - does not concern you."

"I'm sorry," Finn said. "I really am. I don't want to be this way. I don't want to hurt you again." He shook his head. "I never should have started this."

"No, you should have started this a long time ago," Kurt countered. "So should I, for that matter. The question is where do we go from here? Where is it you want to go, Finn? Do you want to have sex with me?"

Finn flushed. "I ... I don't know."

"It's an easy question," Kurt insisted. "Either you do or you don't. Do you want me to blow you? Do you want to blow me? Do you want to be inside me? Tell me what you _want_, Finn."

Shocked by Kurt's language, Finn could only stare.

"Well?" Kurt demanded.

"What do _you_ want?" Finn asked.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You're never going to get anywhere in life if you can't articulate your desires, Finn." He shook his head. "No, I really have no interest in having sex with you. Even back then, I never really thought of you that way. I wanted you to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay. I wanted to be closer to you than I had ever been with anyone else, and you know what? I am."

Finn slowly nodded.

"I don't see us being sexually compatible," Kurt added. "Don't get me wrong; I think the sex would be hot, but I also think we'd regret it. I don't want to have any more regrets where you're concerned. I love you, Finn. I don't ever want to lose you. I don't want a life that doesn't include you."

"I love you, too," Finn whispered.

"So what do you want?"

"I want ... I want to be the man you used to think I could be."

Kurt reached over to pat his cheek and smiled. "You already are."

Finn gave a bashful smile in reply. "Can ... can we do what you said before? Can I hold you?"

Kurt hesitated for a long moment, but at last nodded. He reached over and turned off the lights. "Is that what you need, Finn? Be honest with me."

"I want to feel you," Finn whispered. "I want to feel you in my arms. I want to know what it feels like to hold you."

"What does that mean?"

Rather than answer, Finn sat off and pulled off his shirt. "Will you?"

Kurt unbuttoned his pajama top and slid it from his shoulders, folding it and placing it at the end of the bed. "Now what?"

Finn laid down on his side and gestured for Kurt to come closer. Kurt sighed, turned over, and waited. A moment later, he felt Finn sidle up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist. A large hand was suddenly splayed across his stomach. Finn gave a contended sigh.

"I don't feel anything poking at me," Kurt drawled.

"I've never ... I've never just held anyone before," Finn said quietly. "I've never had anyone hold me other than Mom. I've never ... been this close. Not even with Rachel. I don't understand."

Kurt laid his hand atop Finn's. "You don't want sex, Finn. You just want to feel loved. And I do love you."

Finn scooted down, spooning his legs up against those of Kurt.

"Your hair smells so good," Finn mumbled. "Your skin is so soft."

"Finn," Kurt whispered, "it's okay to want to be touched. It's okay to want physical comfort. It's okay to ask for it."

"We couldn't do this if we were really brothers."

"That's probably true, but we _are_ brothers, Finn. By choice, not blood. We can't be anything more than that."

"I know, but I like this. I like having you close. I like holding you."

"I like being held by you."

"Do you think we could have ever worked?"

"I don't know, Finn. We're very different people. I honestly don't think we would have lasted if we'd tried. You wouldn't have had Rachel and I wouldn't have had Sam. I don't regret Sam and never will. Do you regret Rachel?"

"No, but I guess I regret what you and I never had. I just don't know what it means. Am I gay?"

"Only you can answer that, Finn. You said you didn't think you were and I believe you should trust your own judgment. I don't know if you're strictly straight, though. Have you ever had feelings for another boy?"

"Um ... "

"Please don't say Sam," Kurt groaned.

"Mister Schue."

"Okay, well, I can kind of see that."

"Really?"

"Finn, try not to worry so much about the equipment involved. If you ever get to the field, that will sort itself out. Don't worry about which team you're on and concentrate on what you want. Don't put a name to it. Don't put a face to it. When you're ready, what you want will find you. I don't know if that's a man or a woman, but either way I know they'll be so lucky to have you."

"I don't have to make a decision?" asked a flummoxed Finn.

"Not until you're ready," Kurt said firmly before sighing. "We've all had so many decisions made for us lately."

Finn tightened his hold.

"I'm worried about them," Kurt confessed.

"Me too," Finn murmured, "especially Puck. Whatever's going on there, it's not getting better." He paused. "You know what it is, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked in a tone far too casual.

Finn rolled his eyes. "Come on, Kurt. I've seen the way Puck is with you. It's like how he used to be with me and Grace."

"He misses her a lot," Kurt defended.

"I know," Finn said quietly, "but there's more."

"Finn, you know what happened with his mother. She blames him completely for Grace's death."

"Mrs. P was always a bitch," Finn agreed. "She never treated him right."

"How she can blame him for the crash is beyond me," Kurt groused, "and she acts like she's the only one who lost someone. She didn't come to any of the other funerals and actually tried to bar Puck from attending Grace's own. Now she won't even talk to him."

"That's probably a good thing."

Kurt harrumphed but nodded tightly.

Finn prodded Kurt's ribs. "What else?"

Kurt hesitated. "You can't ever tell him that you know. You can't tell him that I betrayed his trust."

"You're not betraying his trust," Finn insisted. "There's something wrong, Kurt. It can't be up to you to fix all of us. It's not fair and it's not right."

Kurt sighed. "Puck ... lost someone else in the crash."

Finn frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kurt fidgeted in Finn's grasp. "He ... was seeing someone."

Finn thought about that for a long moment. It made sense, he supposed. Puck's mourning had been keen and most of them had suspected that it was about more than just Grace. Not that she wasn't enough, of course; Puck had worshipped that little girl. She had been almost as much his own daughter as she was his sister. He had practically raised her. That, coupled with missing Beth every minute of the day ...

But now there was a fragility about Puck none of them had ever before seen. It was actually kind of frightening. None of them knew what to do or how to address it, so they had just allowed Kurt to take care of everything, just like he always did. The problem was that Kurt was so busy taking care of everyone else, he wasn't taking care of himself. That had to stop. So if Finn could help Puck even a little bit, even if he had to be secretive about it, then he would. The stuff with Quinn and Beth just wasn't so important anymore. A lot had changed in two years.

"Mercedes?" Finn speculated. It kind of made sense.

Kurt was silent for a very long time. So long, in fact, Finn thought he wouldn't answer at all.

"Artie," Kurt whispered.

"Wha?"

"It was very new," Kurt rushed to explain. "They hadn't really done anything about it yet, but they had told one another how they felt."

"Holy shit."

"Exactly."

"Puck and _Artie_?" Finn wondered. "And you were Artie's best friend. Okay, this makes a little more sense. Why he's always hovering around you, I mean. Jeez, poor Puck."

Kurt startled. "You really mean that, don't you?"

Finn blew out a breath. "He was my best friend for a really long time, Kurt. Yeah, he did some heinous shit to me, but I don't even remember my life without him in it. Losing Gracie was bad enough, but if Puck loved someone ... I mean, you know how he is when he loves someone. He really _loves_ them."

Kurt nodded.

Finn sighed again and nestled his head in the crook of Kurt's shoulder. "We're going to get through this. All of us will."

"I know."

"But do you believe me?"

"I do," Kurt said. "It will take time. We've lost so much, Finn, but we still have each other and that really is a miracle. I think ... I think we're all going to have to start talking to each more. Not in secret like we do now, but all of us together."

"Maybe I'm not the only one who needs therapy," Finn suggested.

Kurt smiled and patted his brother's hand. "You always were the smart one, Finny."


End file.
